Child Of Fortune
by yassandra
Summary: In the wake of the fall of Atlantis while the King makes plans to retake the city Jason must struggle with forces beyond his control threatening to tear him apart. The stakes have never been higher and loyalties will be tested to the hilt. Will the bonds of friendship and family be strong enough to survive? Sequel to "Promises To Keep".
1. Chapter 1

A/N Well here we are at the start of another one! Thank you to everyone who took the time and trouble to review the last chapter of _Promises To Keep_. I hope you like this one as much.

As this follows on in a direct line from _Invictus_ , _Where The Wind Blows_ and _Promises To Keep_ it will probably make more sense to read them first ;-)

Anyway please let me know what you think.

* * *

 ** _Child Of Fortune_**

 _Come what may, all bad fortune is to be conquered by endurance._

 _Virgil_

* * *

It was dusk when Hercules slipped back in through the well concealed entrance to the cave they had taken shelter in four days earlier and deposited his armful of grubbed up roots and berries by the dwindling fire. Eyeing the small stack of firewood speculatively he grimaced, knowing that he would have to go on a mission to collect more before the evening was over if they did not want the fire to burn out in the night. The task of collecting wood had fallen to him ever since they had set up camp here aided by Asopus, Pammon and Belos, the three soldiers of Dion's command who had accompanied them.

Asopus was a nice enough lad Hercules supposed, although his incessant cheerfulness and constant chatter tended to grate on the burly wrestler's nerves. Pammon, on the other hand, was the polar opposite: dour and silent to the point where Hercules had begun to wonder if he didn't know how to speak – answering only in grunts. Hercules found himself chattering on whenever he was with Pammon just to fill the uncomfortable silences. Belos was somewhere between his two comrades in character but the bulky man found he still could not warm to the man; could not forget that this was the soldier who had referred to Jason as a "moonstruck boy" and ridiculed what Hercules' young friend had been saying.

Jason had been right though; the Amphigeneians _had_ been in the Palace already – which they had all learned to their cost. How had he known it though? Hercules shuddered to think. What Jason had been saying hadn't really seemed to make much sense at the time and it had only been the trust that the burly wrestler had in his friend that had stopped him from reacting in the same way as Belos.

Hercules eyed the stack of wood again, even as he sat down to warm himself, trying to work out whether he would need to go out again sooner rather than later. He hoped not to be honest; a storm was brewing and the thought of collecting firewood in the worst of it was not appealing. There was no way of knowing just how quickly the storm would blow itself out once it had struck though so perhaps it would be better to go out now.

He grimaced again. Somehow it didn't seem fair that the menial tasks kept falling to him but who else was going to do them? Asking the King to collect firewood or grub up roots for dinner or seek out the medicinal herbs that Pythagoras said they needed did not seem like a viable possibility. Minos had retreated into a dark silence ever since they had arrived here; the last hours in the city finally catching up with him. He had hardly left his wife's side and only really spoke to demand an update on her condition from the weary Pythagoras or to ask if there was any sign of his daughter and stepson joining them.

As for the others, Dion was busy trying to ensure that they were not discovered by any Amphigeneian patrols who happened to venture near Dodona. The sensible thing would be for them to keep moving of course, at least until they had some plan for what they would do next, but that was simply not an option with the Queen in her current state. Hercules sighed. The wound that the Queen had suffered was a serious one and even four days later she was very weak – very ill – as a result. Pythagoras was doing his best to treat her (aided by Melas, whose help was both practical and spiritual – his prayers for the Queen seemed to be helping the King to cope, which could only be a good thing as far as Hercules could see) and to encourage the injury to heal but the truth was that without access to proper medical supplies and equipment, and away from the comforts of a decent bed where Pasiphae might rest and regain her strength, her recovery was going to be hindered – if she recovered at all.

That was something that didn't bear thinking about, Hercules decided grimly. He had no real love lost for the Queen (with good reason as far as he was concerned) but he could only imagine how guilty Jason would feel if that happened. After all Pasiphae had been injured sacrificing herself for the young man. Hercules frowned deeply. When they had first been called to the Palace and Jason had learned of his parents' identities the burly wrestler had been afraid of the Queen's intentions. It had seemed impossible that she had simply wanted to know her son; had seemed far more likely to the big man that she had an ulterior and dubious motive; that she had wanted to use Jason for her own personal gain.

When the young man had been poisoned Hercules had been forced to reassess his position slightly. Pasiphae had clearly been worried (and he had been forced to accept that it was not just because whatever she was planning might have been placed in jeopardy) and had completely ignored custom and convention in order to comfort her sick son. Even then though he would never have imagined that she would dream of stepping in between Jason and an attacker; would take a potentially fatal arrow meant for her son; had not believed that the bond between them would be so deep – that she would love the boy that much. It spoke of a depth of feeling that Hercules could never have imagined possible.

He sighed. If the Queen loved Jason that deeply then how did his friend feel about her? Hercules had a sneaking suspicion that the bond went both ways. Jason was essentially a loving boy (even if he wasn't as demonstrative as Pythagoras under normal circumstances) and the deep seated longing that Hercules knew he harboured for a family of his own combined with a poor sense of self-worth would make him more vulnerable than anyone who didn't know him quite so well would expect. Add to that a tendency to feel guilty for anything that happened to those he loved (whether it really was his fault or not) and Hercules suspected that wherever he was right now his friend's emotional state was probably less than stable. He sighed again. Jason already carried too much guilt and too many troubles on his shoulders without adding anything else to it.

If Pasiphae were to die from this wound, Hercules could well imagine that the boy would never really get over it. He had only really had his mother returned to him recently and had accepted her into his life even more recently than that. Losing her again right now might very well destroy him. Well Hercules wasn't about to let _that_ happen! He and his two young friends had been through too much together to contemplate losing either one of them now – whether it was to a real threat or to his own demons. Having seen Jason come close to giving in to the shadows that haunted him in the past, Hercules knew only too well where his friend's weaknesses lay. He shuddered.

Of course thinking about what had happened at Proerosia brought other, darker, thoughts to Hercules' mind. Both the boys had been through so much in their short lives – it hardly seemed fair that they seemed destined to go through any more. But when had the Gods ever been fair? The burly wrestler was rapidly coming to the conclusion that being noticed by the Gods at all was not a good idea; far better to live out your life quietly and without the resultant danger that any association with the pantheon seemed to bring. Then again if what the Oracle had said was right (and Hercules had no reason to doubt that it was) Jason's life had been shaped by the Gods since before he was born; he owed his very existence to them and really had no chance at all of avoiding their attention. That meant that anyone who regularly associated themselves with him would also come to the attention of the Gods but Hercules wasn't about to let that stop him from trying to help his friend, no matter how much danger he ended up in as a result. He would follow Jason no matter what the cost just for the chance to protect the boy.

Hercules sighed pensively. There was a time, not so very long ago, when he wouldn't have followed anyone anywhere; a time when he wouldn't have put himself out for anyone and certainly would never have dreamed of placing himself into harm's way. He remembered the first day the dark haired lad had arrived in Atlantis, wide eyed and nervous. Hercules had somewhat sharply informed him that he did not want to know his story; did not care whether Jason was a good man and whether he was being unjustly hunted by the guards; that _he_ was not about to risk his neck for anyone and had curtly ordered Pythagoras to make sure Jason left as quickly as he had arrived. Although the memory made him cringe the bulky wrestler couldn't help but smile a little too. Pythagoras had forever been bringing home waifs and strays to be looked after or nursed back to health but he'd never brought anything else back that was quite as large as Jason – or quite as welcome when it came down to it. Not that Hercules had thought that at the time of course; he'd been more anxious to return to his regular routine – to return to the tavern.

He sighed again. He'd wasted half his life in taverns; propping up the bar and telling tall tales of his own heroism. Deep down though he'd always known that he wasn't really a hero; that the stories he'd told of his feats of courage or athleticism were just that – stories that he'd made up to impress other people; to fool himself. But he knew the real thing when he saw it too; knew what a real hero looked like – and knew that Jason _was_ a hero (even if he suspected the lad didn't actually realise it himself); knew that the boy _was_ that special. Somehow he couldn't help but hope that if he followed his friend (no matter how ridiculous the task might be) that one day he'd become the man he'd always claimed to be.

He worried at a thumbnail and peered deep into the flames. _Both_ the boys were special in their own ways and Hercules had made it his job – his mission in life – to protect them and make sure that they remained that way. That was, of course, the reason for his increasingly foul mood over the last few days. Pythagoras was safe enough for the present (as long as the Amphigeneians didn't find them that was) and was where Hercules could keep an eye on him but Jason was still out there somewhere. They had expected him to find his way to them quickly – particularly if Melas was to be believed and the Oracle would be guiding him – but so far there had been no sign. What if he hadn't managed to escape the city? What if he had been injured or captured? Hercules' frown deepened. Although he knew that there really was nothing else he could have done – no way he could have crossed the Temple to join his friend in the wake of the Amphigeneian assault – he somehow couldn't help feeling as though he had failed Jason.

"Is everything alright?"

Hercules turned at Pythagoras' softly uttered question.

"How can you ask that?" he demanded crossly. "We shouldn't have let ourselves be separated from him."

"Jason will be fine," Pythagoras answered calmly. "He is more than capable of looking after himself. If there is anyone who can bring the Princess and the Oracle here safely it is him."

Hercules snorted incredulously.

"He's almost as useless at looking after himself as you are," he groused. "He's got no sense of self-preservation whatsoever and about as much common sense as a week old kitten! He'll throw himself into the first fight that comes along and there'll be no-one there to protect him from himself!"

"Hercules I am as worried as you are," Pythagoras said sharply, "but there is no point in getting upset."

"I'm not worried," Hercules interrupted quickly. "You know I don't get worried about either of you boys."

"Of course not," Pythagoras murmured ironically. He sighed softly and poked the fire. "We must trust Jason. He will join us as soon as he is able."

"But what if he's been captured?" Hercules rumbled. "What if he never managed to make it out of the city? We should be going to find him not sitting around here uselessly."

Pythagoras bit his lip.

"I cannot leave," he admitted quietly. "The Queen is not yet well enough to be left. If you go I will not be able to come with you."

Hercules instantly felt awful. Of course there was no way the young genius could leave the Queen while her health was so precarious. The boy was a born healer after all; could never leave anything injured if there was any way he could help it. Yet his love for his friends meant that he must be just as desperate to find Jason as Hercules was.

"I'm not asking you to," he said contritely. "And I'm not about to leave you on your own with _them_." He nodded across the fire to the far side of the cave where the King sat quietly holding his wife's hand and watching her sleep.

"They would not do anything to hurt me," the mathematician objected quietly. "Even if they wanted to… which I do not believe that they do… the Queen is simply not well enough and the King is too concerned about both her and Ariadne."

"Maybe," Hercules acknowledged, "but if anything were to happen to Pasiphae it might be a different story."

"I do not believe that," Pythagoras answered. "The King may be misguided at times and may not understand the problems of the people… is a little out of touch… but I do not believe he is needlessly cruel."

"Hmm," Hercules rumbled noncommittally. "He might not mean to but grief does funny things to people." He hesitated and looked across the fire towards the royal couple. "How is she anyway?"

"Weak… and in pain. She asks for Jason whenever she is awake." The young genius sighed. "I never thought I would be saying this but I have come to believe that she really does love him."

"Yeah," Hercules agreed. "It goes against the grain to think it but she was willing to die for him."

"Jason is special," Pythagoras murmured.

"He has a way with him certainly," Hercules responded. "But it won't help him if Anaxandros gets his hands on him."

"He runs like the wind Hercules," Pythagoras said. "He has saved our lives more times than I can count. They will not catch him."

"So he'll be fine then," Hercules proclaimed with fake assurance.

"Yes," Pythagoras agreed in the same falsely bright manner.

"He'll probably come bounding in at any moment with some story of how he and the others escaped the Amphigeneians," Hercules went on. "He's probably on his way here right now."

The two men turned and stared at the mouth of the cave hopefully for a few long moments. No-one entered and the air outside was still and quiet. Eventually they both looked away, silence hanging uncomfortably between them, all too aware of the fact that the third member of their trio was missing.

"Did you check the markers?" Pythagoras asked in a more subdued tone.

"Yeah," Hercules answered. "They're all intact. There's no sign that Jason's even been close enough to see them… Besides you know that if he had he'd have found us by now."

"Yes," Pythagoras sighed. "Yes he would."

Hercules slapped the flat of his hand down on the ground in frustration.

"I can't just sit here," he declared. "I have to _do something_."

"And what exactly do you propose we do?" Pythagoras asked. "If Jason escaped the city he will be heading for Dodona… Melas is certain that he Oracle will guide him here. But we cannot know the route he will take or what hurdles he may be facing. All we can really do is wait."

"That's if the Oracle is still with him," Hercules grumbled morosely. "We can't know if they're still together… and if she isn't then Jason might not know where we are."

"The last I saw of Jason he was with both the Oracle and the Princess," Pythagoras argued. "I saw them get out of the Temple together. We have to believe that they are still together."

"And if they're not?"

"What do you propose we do then? Go thrashing around in the woods with no idea of where to look? If the Amphigeneians have sent out patrols we might lead them straight here."

"Go back to Atlantis. Start searching for him there."

"It would be madness Hercules," Pythagoras said sharply. "We do not know that Jason is still there and we might easily be trapped in the city… and if anyone realised we had been with the King and Queen in the Temple… the risk is too great. If one of us were to go alone then perhaps we might have more chance but it would not be prudent for us to split up… and what if Jason _has_ escaped and comes here? You know as well as I do that he would come searching for us in Atlantis… and Anaxandros _will_ be looking for _him_ even if he is not looking for us."

"I know," Hercules growled. "I know all that… but I cannot simply do nothing." He sighed. "You cannot leave the Queen at the moment and I cannot leave you. I'll give Jason until tomorrow night… but if he hasn't found us by then I'm going looking for him whether you like it or not."

He stood up and stalked towards the back of the cave where they had laid out the cloaks to make a sleeping area. Pythagoras watched him go with a heavy heart. Then he turned back to look at the entrance to the cave once more.

"Come on Jason," he murmured. "Where are you?"

* * *

Jason half scrambled, half slid down an embankment between the trees and buried himself in the bushes at the bottom, breathing hard. Why had he thought it would be a good idea to try to outrun an Amphigeneian patrol? Not that he couldn't do it under normal circumstances but right now he was really feeling the fact that he simply wasn't as fit as he was used to being. His chest burned from the effort of running so far and so fast and his side was on fire. He grimaced. If Pythagoras were here he would undoubtedly notice the way Jason had been favouring his side for the last four days and insist on doing a thorough examination and strapping his ribs properly. Of course if Pythagoras _were_ with him he wouldn't have made it through a day without the injury being noticed much less four. But Pythagoras was not with him; Pythagoras was still (hopefully) somewhere out there with Hercules and the King and Queen (he really couldn't afford to think of them as his mother and stepfather right now – couldn't allow himself that much emotion), waiting for Ariadne and him to join them.

As things were there really had been no time whatsoever to stop to treat broken ribs. Not that there was really much that could be done if they were treated. The best that even Pythagoras would be able to do was strap them and give him some sort of painkilling tonic. The only other real remedy was rest. Well that wasn't likely to happen anytime soon, Jason thought humourlessly. Not unless they wanted to be caught. Far better right now for him to try to ignore the fact that he was hurting and simply get on with things. There was no need to mention it; it would only worry his companions and really there was nothing they could do to make it any better right now.

"This way!"

Jason tried to still his breathing, making himself as quiet and motionless as possible as the soldiers from the Amphigeneian patrol came into view. He had hoped that he had managed to put a little more distance between himself and them but he supposed that as long as no-one had actually seen which way he had gone it would be good enough. Peering anxiously through the leaves of the bush he could see the soldiers drawing nearer, randomly poking their swords into bushes and peering about themselves without much enthusiasm. As one of them came close Jason's hand strayed to the hilt of his sword, resting on the ground alongside him. He didn't have much hope that he would be able to fight so many of them off alone if it came down to it but he supposed he would have to at least try.

The soldier approaching seemed to be the officer for the patrol and appeared to be more enthusiastic than his men about finding the young man they had seen fleeing through the woods. He peered more closely at the bush Jason was tucked into, seeming to sense that there was something different about it. Jason crouched as still as a stone. The green cloak that Meriones had insisted he wore would provide some camouflage, allowing him to blend in a little more with his surroundings, but it wouldn't hide him from a determined search. A cough threatened to bubble up from his chest but he ruthlessly suppressed it. _Not now_. This was most definitely _not_ the time for his body to betray him.

"Sir!"

The distant shout made the officer turn to face the soldier who was calling him.

"What?" he growled.

"We've found the remains of a camp," the second soldier stated, pointing back down the small gully they were in in the opposite direction to the one Jason had come from.

The officer sneered.

"What are you waiting for then?" he barked. "Let's go," he ordered the other men in his patrol.

Once the patrol had gone Jason heaved a sigh of relief, wrapping his arm around himself to rest lightly over his damaged ribcage as a sharp stab of pain assaulted him. Whoever the camp that the Amphigeneians had discovered had belonged to, he hoped they were long gone. At least the enemy were heading away from where he had left the others though; at least it meant that Ariadne and the Oracle would be safe.

It should have been easy once they had escaped the city – but then when had his life ever been easy, Jason thought with a little bitterness; certainly not since he had arrived in Atlantis. Once they had escaped through the smugglers tunnel and into the woods it should only have been a short journey to Dodona – a few hours at most – and then they would have been reunited with family and friends. As it was though there had been far more Amphigeneian soldiers in the woods than any of them had been expecting and most of the last four days had been spent trying to evade the enemy patrols, each of them unwilling to approach Dodona directly if there was any chance of them drawing the enemy down on the heads of those waiting for them.

There was really no telling if the King was still at Dodona anyway. Logic should have dictated that Minos and those with him kept moving to evade capture. Since Dion was one of that party it seemed sensible that he would be the one taking the tactical decisions and his first thoughts would always be for the safety of the King. Yet Jason knew that Pasiphae had been injured and he was fairly certain it had been serious. He had seen the arrow pierce her after all and had seen her being carried away from the battle for the Temple unmoving in Hercules' arms. There was really no telling whether she would be well enough to move or even whether she was still alive. _Don't go there_ , Jason ruthlessly told himself feeling his breath catch and a sob begin to force its way out of his throat. He couldn't do this; couldn't allow himself to feel or to think of the possible consequences of the wound for his mother; had to be able to think and function as normal for the sake of his companions; had to be capable of fighting if he needed to and of planning a way for them to meet up with their family and friends.

Yet worry ate at him in the still of the night; guilt gnawing at his stomach. His mother had sacrificed herself for him. There was no getting away from that simple fact. Somehow he couldn't quite get his head around her actions and, even though he had seen it happen himself, there was a sense of unreality to everything that had happened over the last four days – as though it was all a particularly bad dream that he just couldn't seem to wake up from. Deep down he knew that her action had been an act of love – deep love – but he really didn't feel worthy of it. He had done nothing but bring trouble into the lives of everyone he had met since arriving in Atlantis; did not really believe he had ever done anything to be worthy of the love and devotion that his friends (and now his mother) had shown him.

After all it was _his_ fault that Pasiphae had been injured in the first place. If he had just been paying a bit more attention to what was going on around him he might have noticed that archer; if he had just been a little quicker… It didn't seem fair that his mother would be suffering (if indeed the wound had not proved fatal – and he had to supress another sob that tried to force its way out unbidden at the thought) for _his_ mistakes. In the day when he was busy trying to keep the little group he was with hidden and safe from the Amphigeneians he could avoid thinking about it – could force the guilt from his mind. In the still of the night though, when he was on solitary watch or lying still on a blanket pretending to be asleep for the sake of his companions, the thoughts rolled round and round in his head biting at him; the shame of his own failures and the remorse engendered by them crawling up into his brain and refusing to let him rest.

Not that he was able to sleep all that much anyway to be completely honest. Ever since they had escaped from the city in the wake of the final Amphigeneian assault the insomnia that Pythagoras had been patiently defeating over the previous couple of months had returned in full force. It was a reaction to stress – Jason was well aware of that fact but it didn't make it any easier to combat in the short term. When you added to that the fact that his side ached (a constant throb from his ribcage that occasionally flared into spikes of fire that burned through him) and prevented him from truly achieving a comfortable position, sleeping peacefully was always going to be difficult.

What little sleep he had been able to find had been troubled, dark nightmares from his past or strange and apparently random images that he didn't recognise tormenting and disturbing him – images of Ariadne, beautiful as ever in her court dress, on her knees and screaming at the sky, a knife in her grasp, the blade and her hands coated in blood; of Minos being dragged towards the brazen bull as Anaxandros looked on, gloating; of his friends lying terrifyingly still, their skin marble pale and their clothes splashed with blood. The last image rose unbidden to his mind once again and made him shiver even in the middle of the day.

Tiredness was making him snappy and preventing him from thinking as clearly as he should. Jason knew it but simply did not know what to do about it. He was tired, sore and afraid but out here there was little that he could do to relieve any of it. More than ever he needed the support of his two friends; needed Pythagoras to produce one of those tonics that he always seemed to conjure up no matter where they were to take the edge off any pain or help him to sleep; needed the steady reassurance of Hercules, not always delivered in the manner he might like but always in the manner that he needed; needed the comfort of a hand on his shoulder or back – the little casual touches that he had never really known before coming to Atlantis but had come to take for granted here; needed the constant banter that seemed to make life more bearable no matter how dire the situation; needed their strength to bolster him so that just for a minute he could drop the act and stop having to be strong and stoic himself.

It had almost been a relief when the Amphigeneian patrol had stumbled worryingly close to the camp they had set up. Without stopping to wait for agreement from the others he had taken off into the trees, making as much noise as he could to alert the enemy to his presence without being too obvious about it and making them wonder whether he was trying to lead them away from anyone and anything. Trusting Nisos to protect the two women (and knowing that Ariadne was more than capable of defending herself with her bow – and hadn't _that_ been a surprise… who knew that the beautiful and serene Princess of Atlantis was a good archer who fought like a demon when the situation demanded it?) he had charged off through the bushes as fast as he could manage, relying on his flying feet to get him out of the danger he had knowingly and deliberately placed himself in.

He would make his way back to them soon. The sounds of the Amphigeneian patrol had long since vanished, leaving the woods peaceful. Somewhere nearby a bird began to sing. Jason let his head drop back against the bank he was resting against and closed his eyes. Just a few more minutes, he decided; a few more minutes to allow himself to get his mask back into place; to allow him to convince his companions that all was well. The effects of his long run were beginning to catch up on him, exhaustion making his limbs feel heavy, weighted down as if they were attached to boulders. A cold wind rippled through the branches of the trees, catching at the leaves of the bush he was currently lodged in and making him shiver. Jason automatically pulled his cloak a little tighter around himself, knowing that he would have to make a move soon or risk falling asleep where he sat.

The breeze caught at the back of his throat and drew a sharp cough from his lungs. Jason doubled over, his forehead resting against his knees as he tried to manage the sudden spike of pain from his side; the feeling that a dozen knives were being stabbed sharply into his ribs. Oh yeah he'd forgotten that coughing with broken ribs was _so much fun_ , he thought sarcastically. For a moment he rested there, curled in on himself as he tried to will himself back into some semblance of wellness; to fool his body into believing that all was well (even though he knew it patently wasn't). It was only a couple of broken ribs and a bit of a cough, he thought crossly. Nothing serious or life threatening, and it annoyed him that such a relatively minor thing had the power to rob him of his strength so utterly.

It was annoying really, the way that his body refused to believe his attempts to convince himself that all was well. Annoying that such a minor problem could drive him to his knees, making his stomach roll and his head swim. Jason growled to himself as he forced himself back upright, the scream in his ribs abating enough to allow him to focus on something other than the pain and the light-headedness fading once more. More exhausted than ever he forced himself to his feet, knowing that Ariadne would be worrying; wanting to come searching for him if he was gone for too much longer. That would, of course, place her in unnecessary danger – a risk he was unwilling to take.

Drawing on the last of his reserves the young man set off at a trot once more. The stream he had spotted from the top of the embankment might provide him with a little cover he decided as he pushed his way out of the bush. At least it would mask his footprints. Soon enough he was soaked to the knees with a mixture of ice cold water and sticky mud, the cold seeming to seep into his bones. He hurried on as fast as the slippery rocks beneath his feet would allow him to without falling, water splashing higher up his legs and soaking the hem of his cloak too.

To distract himself from how truly miserable he was feeling, Jason started to let himself think about what would happen when he saw his friends again (even as he resolutely kept his mind away from thoughts of his mother and the worry and guilt that those thoughts would bring). Pythagoras might fuss but it would be borne of affection – as would Hercules' gruffness. Jason would even take a lecture from the older man if it just meant that they were all together again.

He had no doubts that he would find them – not really. If the Queen were as badly injured as he suspected he doubted that their party would have managed to travel far from Dodona. That was why he had been insisting on taking such a circuitous route to get there – to avoid leading the enemy directly to his friends. The patrol he had just evaded was the first they had seen for over a day, however. It seemed that the Amphigeneians were pulling back into Atlantis to consolidate their hold there before they began searching the woods properly for any fugitives. Perhaps it was time for him to lead his little group towards their destination; time to trust his instincts that were currently telling him that he had a short window of opportunity to find his friends before the Amphigeneian net drew around them again.

Even if his friends had moved on from Dodona itself (and he had no real doubt that they would have sought a safe shelter somewhere – would not be camped out in the open in the grove itself) it would not present any real problem. Hercules had long since taught both his friends his own personal marker system for if they were ever separated and needed to find one another – devised for the occasions when they were out hunting or had taken a job that led them away from Atlantis. It was generally made up of a varying number of sticks and pinecones placed into the hollows of tree trunks or crevices in rocks in a particular formation to indicate the direction he had travelled in and how far he was planning to go before the next marker. It was a system that was both simple and effective and meant something only to the three men using it. Any outsider would not be able to decipher the meaning of the apparently random distribution of naturally occurring items and would probably overlook it altogether – particularly as they would not know to search the hollows of trees for the signs. To Jason, however, it was a good as having a map; a signpost that would lead directly to his friends.

He splashed on through the muddy stream. Presently he came to a place where the ground was firmer – drier – and he could get out without leaving footprints in the mud as a clear marker to his presence. Climbing up onto the bank he shook himself, trying to shake off some of the water that was currently weighing down the hem of his cloak and grimacing at the thickly caked slimy mud that clung to his feet and legs, coating the bottom of his trousers. Then he turned and started to trot in the direction of the camp where he had left the others. It was time to gather everyone up and go to find his friends.

* * *

Ariadne paced the small gulley where they had set up camp the night before restlessly. Near the fire the Oracle sat deep in prayer, her hood pulled up over her head while her hands were busy with a small box she had produced from somewhere within her robes which contained all the items necessary to help her complete her devotions to the Gods. Ariadne flashed her an irritated glare. How, after everything that had happened over the last few days, could the Oracle sit there so calmly? As untouched and untouchable as ever. Didn't she care at all that Jason had run off into danger? That he'd been gone for far too long?

The Princess stopped. Truth be told she was furious at Jason for darting off before they could come up with a sensible plan. Furious and worried. No matter how much he might be trying to pretend that he was fine she knew better; knew him too well. What had happened to Pasiphae was hitting him hard and despite the fact that Ariadne had no love for her stepmother she supposed she could understand it. After all how would she feel if it were her father? Jason had only just begun to get to know his mother but had quickly formed a bond with her. Ariadne wondered about that. It had almost happened too quickly but she supposed that if she had grown up as an orphan, finding that a parent she had believed dead was actually alive would be something wondrous to her and that she might be desperate to form an attachment herself. Plus Pasiphae had treated Jason with a gentleness that the Princess had never seen from the Queen before. Over the past couple of months Ariadne had increasingly seen the bereft mother who hid inside Pasiphae and had been forced to acknowledge that her stepmother desperately wanted the chance to form a bond with her son. Since Jason had come to the Palace she had seen that that desire most definitely went two ways.

So, yes, Ariadne understood just how upset Jason had to be over what had happened to his mother – particularly as he had no way at present of knowing just how bad things were; no way of knowing if Pasiphae were even still alive. The difficult part was that he was trying to pretend that it wasn't bothering him; that he wasn't even thinking of it. He was throwing up defensive walls faster than the Princess could break through them; retreating into isolation. Running off to lead the Amphigeneian patrol away from them was just another symptom of it. He would undoubtedly try to convince her when he returned (and she had to believe that he _would_ return unharmed) that it had been the only way but the truth was that Ariadne knew that, for all his basic desire was to protect the group, at least part of his actions would have been dictated by his own desire to avoid them for a little while.

Perhaps if they hadn't had a disagreement shortly before they had spotted the patrol he wouldn't have gone. She had noticed how tired he was becoming; knew that he hadn't really been sleeping properly over the last few nights; that he was taking longer watches than the rest of them. Things had come to a head this morning though when it had transpired that Jason had apparently "forgotten" to wake either Nisos or herself up to relieve him and allow him to get a few hours of sleep despite the fact that she had explicitly told everyone she wanted to take her turn. Ariadne had quietly seethed for most of the day; had wanted to let Jason know how she felt but not in front of the others. Her chance had come in the late afternoon as they searched for firewood together. She had made her feelings clear on the subject but had not really expected Jason to argue (although given what she knew of his stubbornness she wondered why she hadn't expected it). Their disagreement hadn't been particularly loud or vocal but it had been profound given that they'd never actually argued before. To Ariadne's eyes Jason was clearly running himself into the ground and she wasn't about to accept him risking his own health when there was no real need for it. There were enough of them to take turns on watch at night while the others slept and to the Princess' mind it was simply unnecessary for Jason to be trying to take on the burden on his own. Maybe she shouldn't have suggested that he would be useless to them if he collapsed from exhaustion but she was more than a little annoyed that he didn't seem able to see how unreasonable he was being.

Of course she had not banked on being on the receiving end of Jason's temper. While she had seen him snap at Pasiphae once (and knew that it had happened a few more times in the first couple of days he had been at the Palace), Ariadne knew that as a rule Jason was relatively sunny natured and apparently slow to anger. It appeared though that sleep deprivation (combined with worry she suspected) made him irritable. He had not shouted at her – although in some ways Ariadne thought she would have preferred it if he had. Instead he had been icily cold but sharp, snapping in a manner that Ariadne had never believed he would direct at her. Then he had retreated even further into himself and ignored her completely until the patrol had drawn near. At that point he had simply announced that he would lead them away and that the rest of them should hide and had taken off before anyone could respond.

Still upset Ariadne paced to the end of the gully. It would help, she supposed, if she had someone to share her worries with, but the Oracle was still serenely praying, apparently unaware of the Princess' turmoil, and Nisos was hunting for food – a wise precaution given that they didn't know how long they would be camped here; how long it would take Jason to lose his pursuers and return to them. Although if it took much longer Ariadne would be setting off to look for him no matter what anyone else thought. She ran a frustrated hand through her hair and moved back towards the fire, crouching down and grabbing a knife, preparing to whittle the end of some of the thin wooden staves the two men had cut for her from nearby trees into sharp points to use as arrows. In truth she already had plenty of arrows but she needed to keep her hands and her mind occupied to keep herself from worrying too much.

The sudden flapping of wings alerted her to how quiet the forest had become, even the air seemed heavy and still. Something had disturbed the wildlife enough that it was silent. With a quick glance at the Oracle Ariadne silently pushed herself to her feet and walked to the end of the gully once more, her senses alert, eyes darting around to try to spy out any nearby threats. It was not Nisos, of that she was sure. The young soldier had left from the opposite end of the gully and had promised to return that way. Nothing was moving. Ariadne turned to look anxiously back down the hollow, nervous that someone might have crept up behind her, silencing the Oracle as they had come. There was nothing. The only sounds that reached Ariadne's ears were her own harsh breathing and her feet crunching faintly through the fallen leaves. She grasped the knife she had been using to sharpen her arrows a little more tightly, suddenly wishing that she had had the foresight to pick up the bow that rested near the fire – although she supposed that at close quarters it would only really be useful as a staff.

She stilled. A twig snapped. Someone was behind her. As quickly as she could she span around, knife already slashing forwards to strike her opponent. Quicker than she would have deemed possible a hand caught her wrist firmly but not painfully and the blade stopped inches from Jason's breastplate. The young man blew out a breath and then smiled at her, reaching out to pull Ariadne into an embrace.

"Jason," Ariadne breathed, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his armoured shoulder missing the little wince he gave as she grasped him a little too tightly.

They stayed like that for a moment, stealing what comfort they could from one another until the pointed clearing of a throat made them both turn.

"Not interrupting anything am I?" Nisos asked with an amused grin.

The young soldier had proved to be a good travelling companion. He was a more than competent warrior and as it turned out possessed a dry sense of humour that made his company pleasurable. He had also accepted the fact that Jason and Ariadne clearly knew one another without comment; did not seem concerned that the Princess had what appeared to be a close relationship with someone dressed as a commoner – close enough for them to be on a first name basis anyway. If he was in any way surprised that Jason did not use Ariadne's title and show deference to her he didn't show it.

"I mean I'd hate to think that I'd interrupted," Nisos continued with his eyes still sparkling. Then his face grew serious. "If I may be so bold My Lady," he ventured. "You must be careful. You are a Princess with a reputation to protect." His eyes flicked over Jason. "I do not mean any harm," he added, "but…"

"I am hardly a Princess at present," Ariadne answered. "I am simply the daughter of an exiled King."

"Nevertheless I do not think your father would be happy with you consorting with a commoner," Nisos said softly.

"Jason is not a commoner," Ariadne retorted. "He is the son of King Aeson and true heir to the throne of Atlantis."

"I'm not heir to the throne," Jason protested, "and I don't want to be either. That's your place."

"Jason," Ariadne started.

"Besides," Jason continued as though she hadn't spoken, "I'm not sure that your father would be very happy with you telling people who I am and who my parents are. He seems pretty keen to keep it a secret… and I'd rather it stayed that way."

"It is partly for your sake that he does wish it to be kept a secret," the Princess argued. "My father is already coming to think of you as a member of our family. I know he has not yet given us his permission but he hasn't denied it either. You _are_ a prince of Atlantis but whether you choose to accept the role has to be down to you."

"It's kind of beside the point at the moment anyway," Jason responded. "With Anaxandros in control of the city we're fugitives at best."

Nisos was looking between the two of them with his mouth hanging open. He closed it with an audible snap.

"All this time," he muttered. "We have travelled together for days now and you never said a word My Lord."

Jason grimaced.

"Don't call me that," he all but begged. "I'm not a lord… I'm nothing special."

Ariadne snorted drawing an irritated look from Jason.

"So your mother is…" Nisos began still looking somewhat startled.

"Yes," Jason answered shortly.

The young soldier winced. He had seen what had happened to the Queen the same way they all had. It had seemed incredible – unbelievable – to him at the time that she had sacrificed herself to save a peasant (albeit a brave one) but their flight from the Temple had driven it from his mind. Now it all made a horrible sort of sense.

"I am truly sorry," he said genuinely, looking at Jason.

Jason frowned.

"It isn't your fault," he muttered awkwardly, slightly upset at the direction the conversation had taken.

Ariadne had drawn back from him by this point and was looking at him with a frown. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the Oracle packing up her devotional equipment and shaking out a blanket, quickly following it up with a second. The Princess' frown deepened. Surely it was a little early to be thinking of laying out their beds for the night? Although given that the patrol that had drawn close was the first signs they had seen of the enemy in more than a day, this hollow should be safe enough for the time being. She turned and looked at Jason again and smacked him on the arm.

Jason yelped in surprise.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"Running off on your own without discussing things first," Ariadne answered primly.

Jason frowned.

"There wasn't time," he argued.

"There was enough time," Ariadne said. "You know as well as I do that the Amphigeneians weren't _that_ close. I'm not saying that we would have done anything different but we have to work together. You are not on your own and you cannot make that sort of decision for all of us."

"Ariadne," Jason began.

"What if you had been injured?" she continued, her voice throbbing with emotion. "What if you hadn't managed to get back to us? Or if you were captured? We _need_ you Jason… _I_ need you. Please… please do not shut yourself off… do not shut me out." She put her hand back on his arm, her dark eyes worried.

"I'm sorry," Jason answered, subdued. "I just wanted to lead them away from you. I just wanted to keep you safe."

"I know," Ariadne said, "but I worry about you just as much as you worry about me." She paused and looked him up and down, taking in how cold and tired he looked and how the lower half of his trousers and legs were covered in wet mud. "What happened?"

"Not much," Jason said. "I led them away from here and then hid in the bushes until they left. They found an abandoned camp that they went off to investigate. I got the feeling that they're being called back to the city though. I heard one of them calling to one of the others. He was saying that they're being pulled out of the woods. I think they might be trying to consolidate their hold on Atlantis before they start searching for the King properly. It might be the chance we need to get through and find your father and my friends."

He deliberately avoided mentioning his mother – or even thinking about her. Ariadne gave him a sympathetic and knowing look that he ignored, her eyes filled with compassion.

"How did you get so wet?" she asked gently, changing the subject slightly.

Jason half smiled.

"Came back along a stream bed so that if they did decide to carry on searching for me near where they lost me they wouldn't be able to find any footprints to follow," he said. "It may have been a bit muddier than I was expecting."

"I should say so," Ariadne teased. "Come on."

She grabbed Jason's hand and started to lead him back to the fire where their few bags were lying. Reaching into the bag she had filled in Jason's room in the Palace rather than one of the ones pressed upon them by Meriones, she pulled out a spare pair of trousers.

"Get changed," she instructed. "You don't want to be hanging around cold and damp."

Jason took the trousers off her with a nod and a small smile. Someday he had the feeling that Ariadne would make a wonderful mother. He glanced around.

"Perhaps you wouldn't mind turning your back?" he asked softly.

"Of course," Ariadne answered as she turned around, noting that both Nisos and the Oracle turned as well to give Jason a little privacy.

Jason almost smiled again at the feeling of deja-vu that struck him. Of course the last time it had been him and his two friends turning their backs while the Princess changed so really the situation was kind of inverted – although he supposed the principle remained the same. Somehow he couldn't see Ariadne peeking though – not the way that Hercules had – or the way that _he_ had if he was honesty (although he hadn't actually _seen_ anything).

"You can turn around now," he said softly.

Ariadne turned back to him with a smile.

"That is much better," she approved. "Now I will not have to worry about you catching your death."

Jason sank down onto the blanket that the Oracle had laid out, suddenly more tired than ever. He couldn't even summon up the energy to answer Ariadne or acknowledge it when she sat down next to him and slipped the second blanket around his shoulders.

"Maybe we should eat and then we can talk about what we do next," Nisos said, producing some pheasants from beneath his cloak, newly killed and ready for plucking.

The Oracle pounced on them with what appeared to her younger companions' eyes to be almost unholy delight, whisking them away to prepare and returning them to roast on a stick frame set above the fire like a spit with truly remarkable speed. As she sat and watched the Seeress set about preparing dinner for them all (something that she would never have imagined seeing in a million years) Ariadne shivered slightly, the cold managing to seep through the cloak that she wore. Jason edged closer and drew her into his arms, draping the blanket around both their shoulders for warmth. Ariadne looked at him over her shoulder. Although he smiled she couldn't help but notice that it didn't quite reach his eyes, leaving him with an air of pensiveness.

"We _will_ find them," she said with certainty.

"I know," Jason answered softly. He sighed.

"I am sure she will be fine." Ariadne tried to reassure him.

"Yeah," Jason responded. "She's strong… stubborn…" He sounded more hopeful than certain.

Ariadne bit her lip at his tone.

"We'll be in Dodona tomorrow," the young man continued. "We will find your father… and Hercules and the others. Everything will be fine then."

"You should get some rest," Ariadne murmured gently running a hand down the side of his face. "You are exhausted."

"I'm alright."

"No," Ariadne disagreed. "You are not alright. You are tired and worried."

"We're all worried," Jason argued.

"Indeed," Ariadne acknowledged. "But for tonight let us try to forget our worries and simply enjoy being here together. I have come to realise that the future is uncertain… every day is precious… we must enjoy them as such. I know so little of your past and yet I believe that I know so much about _you_ … but I would still wish for us to learn more about one another… there are so many stories I wish to tell you from my own childhood… and I do not believe that we will have many chances to spend time alone in one another's company in this way very often."

"We're not exactly alone now," Jason responded with a wry grin looking over to the place where the Oracle was preparing supper and then to where Nisos was sharpening his sword.

"I believe you know what I meant," Ariadne said, smiling at him.

"Yes," Jason answered. "I do."

As the Oracle finished off preparing their meal he pulled Ariadne in a little tighter to him, their conversation light and easy, steering clear of any topics that worried either one of them. Casting aside thoughts of his mother and stepfather or his friends he settled down for the evening with his beautiful Princess in his arms, ready to listen to whatever stories she chose to tell him and perhaps to tell one or two of his own. Tomorrow might be uncertain but tonight was theirs.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Thank you all (as always) for the lovely reviews! I get quite excited to see them coming in - particularly at the start of a new story.

Now I will admit right here and now that I'm not as happy with this chapter as I would like to be but I hope you'll all still like it. I can't quite put my finger on why I'm not satisfied though. If you do enjoy reading it please let me know so that I can put my doubts to bed.

* * *

It was still dark when Jason woke up with a gasp, heart pounding and breath rasping. Tonight Circe had been the particular demon from his past that had had to be vanquished – something that he never found easy to do in his dreams. In fact if he were being completely honest with himself he had never actually managed to fight off the nightmares that came when he closed his eyes – merely quieted them for a time. At least this time he recognised the setting though – knew as soon as the nightmare started what he would end up facing. It was the dreams that ended up being mirrored in real life that unnerved him the most; the ones that seemed to be of the future.

Still trying to shake off the effects of the dream he sat up, elbows resting on his knees and head in his hands. After a long moment and with one last shuddering indrawn breath he looked up. Ariadne slept peacefully near the fire. Jason smiled softly to himself and edged closer, crouching down beside the girl and allowing his eyes to sweep over her sleeping form. _Because watching her sleep isn't creepy or weird at all_ , he thought to himself with some amusement. But, God, she was so very beautiful as she slept; so very young and innocent. With trembling fingers he reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her eyes as gently as he could so as not to wake her.

From the movement in the position of the stars he guessed it was getting on towards dawn. Jason frowned faintly. How had he slept for so long? Surely he should have been woken for his turn at the watch hours ago? Come to that though he didn't actually remember going to sleep. In fact the last thing he could remember was picking at his supper without much enthusiasm while Ariadne had told a story about her brother Therus, Heptarian, a long stick and a bees' nest. Somehow he'd ended up going from there to sleeping wrapped up in his cloak and a blanket without quite knowing how.

He looked around himself. Someone (and he suspected it was Nisos) had erected a primitive frame of some of the longer branches they had collected up against the wall of the gully, with a couple of blankets stretched out over the top to form a sort of shelter. It wasn't enough to keep the wind from catching at them but did at least keep the rain off to a large extent, and looking at how saturated the fabric was Jason guessed it had been needed – that one of the winter storms had hit after he had fallen asleep.

Actually it worried Jason a little that he had apparently managed to sleep through the building of the shelter and the arrival of the storm. He really didn't think he'd been _that_ tired. Usually he was a fairly light sleeper after all. Perhaps Ariadne had been right when she had asserted that he needed to rest, but he still felt guilty that his body had apparently decided to give in without consulting his mind. After all they were hardly safe at the moment and it was his duty – his responsibility – to protect the group.

He pushed himself slowly to his feet but ended up nearly doubled over as the throbbing from his ribcage became a scream. He hadn't even attempted to remove his breastplate since the battle in the Temple, unsure whether he would be able to manoeuvre enough to take either it or his tunic off unaided and equally unsure whether he would be able to get them back on afterwards – whether the pain in his side would be worse if he had to re-lace the armour. Somehow Jason suspected that it would be. As it was he reasoned that the breastplate was at least providing some protection to his damaged ribs; was hopefully keeping them stable. If the stiffness and pain were anything to go by Jason suspected that this time the damage went beyond cracks into full breaks. He only hoped that none of the bones were displaced because the thought of puncturing a lung was not an attractive one, especially out here where there was no real access to medical treatment – no matter how primitive that treatment might seem to him.

As the shriek from his side quietened down into a muted burn, a deep ache whenever he breathed in or out, stretching almost from shoulder to hip, Jason straightened once more, grimacing faintly. This was really not good. It didn't help that the cough he'd developed as he'd been recovering from being poisoned and couldn't seem to shake off, seemed to be getting worse rather than better. Every time he coughed it set fire to his chest; a burning pain that took a ridiculously long time to settle and made him feel raw from the inside out. What he wouldn't give right now for some paracetamol or ibuprofen – or really any of the painkillers he'd grown up with and always taken for granted in the world he had come from. Even one of Pythagoras' painkilling tonics would do – even if it did taste like something drawn directly from a bog.

With one hand he began to rub at his temples, squeezing the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger in an attempt to quiet the blossoming headache that was building behind his eyes. A headache borne of stress and tiredness he suspected. Still with any luck it should only be a few more hours – a day at the most – until he could hopefully join up with his friends. Jason allowed the thought to console him. There was a chance, he was only too well aware, that the Oracle was wrong and that his friends had not managed to escape the Temple, but he refused to allow his mind to dwell on that possibility. No. He _would_ join up with them at Dodona (or somewhere very near to Dodona at least) and then he could let himself rest. He just had to hang on until then; he was strong enough to last – he hoped.

That last thought almost made him smile wryly. The last time he had thought that had been when Pythagoras was recovering from his illness and there hadn't been enough food in the house for all three of them – and look how well _that_ had turned out! Passing out at the top of a flight of stone stairs had not been the best thing he had ever done and was something to be avoided again by any means possible. Not that there was a flight of stairs in the woods but he supposed the principle held true. Oh God, he was even rambling in his thoughts. Jason's frown deepened. He must be even more tired than he had thought.

Tempting though it might be to try to go back to sleep, to curl back up in the blankets that as he looked at them only grew more attractive, he really ought to be taking his turn at the watch. And no matter how appealing the blankets looked Jason knew right now that the throbbing from his side would not make going back to sleep easy; that he would struggle to find a comfortable position lying down. He scrubbed a hand across his face and went to find Nisos, moving as quietly and carefully as possible to avoid waking the ladies.

The young Atlantian soldier stood just outside the camp, pacing up and down occasionally to relieve his boredom. He looked up as Jason approached and nodded in greeting to his companion.

"Quiet night," he murmured in greeting. "The air is still… peaceful. Would that it could stay that way."

"Hmm," Jason responded. "You shouldn't be on guard all night. You should have woken me earlier."

"You stood guard all night last night," Nisos pointed out. "But I haven't actually been here all that long anyway."

Jason frowned.

"What do you mean?" he demanded. Then he thought about it for a moment. "Ariadne," he growled.

"The Princess was most insistent that she be allowed to take her own turn at the watch," Nisos agreed mildly, "and she demanded that you should not be woken."

Jason pulled a face.

"You should have ignored her," he said.

Nisos raised an eyebrow.

"She is the Princess," he said. "She gave me a royal command. Her orders _must_ be obeyed."

Jason gave a humourless laugh. There was no way he could argue with that he supposed even though he still disagreed with Ariadne's chosen course of action.

"I suppose you're right," he said softly.

"Besides," Nisos continued, "when you fell asleep over supper I figured you could use the rest."

"Maybe," Jason acknowledged.

The two young men stood in silence for a short time both lost in thought.

"It will be dawn soon," Nisos said eventually, breaking the silence.

"Yes," Jason agreed.

The young soldier allowed a faint smile to grace his features.

"There is no point us both being up," he pointed out. "Why don't you go and get a little more rest."

Jason huffed a breath.

"Too wide awake now," he said softly. "I might go and see if I can find some fruit for breakfast while things are quiet. We'll need to be moving off early if we want to get to Dodona before nightfall."

Leaving Nisos on guard, Jason slipped back into the camp and collected one of the bags they had brought with them before heading up the gully, past where the young soldier stood guard, to the far end. There should be fruit trees and berry bushes fairly nearby; their campsite had been picked with some care the day before yesterday because of both the natural protection that the gully provided and the abundance of food nearby.

Just beyond the end of the gully he stopped at a berry bush, loading the bag that he carried with enough to provide them with breakfast. Somehow he still couldn't get used to the fact that so many of the trees and bushes produced fruit in the winter, although he knew that the warmer climate would help.

Gradually he became aware that someone was behind him; someone who had moved on silent feet. Jason reached for the sword at his waist and mentally cursed when he found that in his tiredness he had forgotten to bring it. Stupid… he was so stupid!

"Your dreams are very dark lately."

Jason turned to face the Oracle, breathing a sigh of relief that it was not an Amphigeneian soldier behind him.

"They trouble you," the Seeress went on, her eyes boring into him intently.

"You can see my dreams?" Jason asked.

"Not their content," the Oracle admitted, "but I can sense their darkness… it has woken me several times."

"I'm sorry," Jason apologised.

"Do not be," the Oracle said gently. "It is simply part of my gift. I sense a darkness in your heart. Do you want to share it?"

"Not particularly," Jason answered. "There's nothing really to share. It's just a couple of bad dreams… only natural with everything that's happened I guess… and it's not like I haven't had bad dreams before. I'm not a child… I'm not going to be hiding from the monsters under the bed."

"Sometimes dreams may be just that," the Oracle responded, "but at other times they may be more."

"What do you mean?" Jason asked with a frown.

"They may tell us the story of our past… or our future," the Oracle ventured, looking sideways at her young companion.

Jason swallowed hard, feeling his breath quickening. There was no way she could know that some of his dreams seemed to have come true lately; no way she could have found out about the weird feelings that had drawn him towards certain things or had seemed to spark memories or visions that he couldn't possibly have. He was being ridiculous – childish – and jumping at shadows. Yes he had had a couple of dreams that seemed to play out in the waking world but it was no more than coincidence – nothing to be concerned about. Yet the rational part of his mind kept telling him that they had been more than mere coincidence. Had been too exact in detail to be anything other than prophetic. Jason shook himself. This was not something he was even willing to contemplate at the moment.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, pushing past the Oracle and heading back to the camp.

The Seeress watched him go. So it seemed that Pasiphae had been right. Jason _was_ exhibiting signs of sharing the gift of prophecy yet he was clearly not ready to acknowledge the fact; was not ready to think about it. The Oracle sighed. That would make things so much harder. If she was to draw his gift into the light – help him before the abilities that he did not yet understand and could in no way control destroyed him – she was going to have to do it the hard way. The first step would be to force Jason to accept what was happening to him – and that was going to be difficult in his current frame of mind.

Ideally for what she had in mind they would need to be in a place of peace, tranquillity and safety. The Temple would have been perfect. There were even areas of the Palace that would have done. But here? In the woods? With the Amphigeneians hunting them at every turn? The very thought of attempting to do what she needed to do to make the young man understand what was going on in his own mind out here under these circumstances made her shudder. This was not a situation that could be rushed. The boy would need time to adjust, no matter how adaptable he had seemed to be to ever other change in his fortunes. He would need patient guidance from both herself and she believed his mother. Pasiphae might have a large part to play in what was to come.

No, even thinking of attempting to fully bring Jason's gift into the light and teaching him to control it while they were still being hunted by the Amphigeneians was impossible. She would need to wait until the situation was more propitious. Yet she knew better than anybody time was limited. Jason was already exhibiting signs of prescience and that would only grow as time went on. She worried that without proper guidance he would buckle under the pressures being placed upon him; had seen it happen in those with the gift of foresight all too often; knew that identifying Jason's particular abilities would only be half the battle.

With a soft sigh the Oracle began to pick her way back to camp. The first light of dawn was just beginning to grace the horizon and she knew that they would need to be moving on soon, especially if they wanted to reach Dodona before nightfall. There should hopefully be just enough time for her to make her morning devotions to Poseidon before they had to pack up camp if she hurried now.

By the time she reached the camp Ariadne had woken up. While Nisos and Jason took down the temporary structure that had protected them from the rain the night before, the Princess rolled up the blankets and put them away in their bags. The berries that Jason had collected for their breakfast had already been distributed among four bowls. The Oracle smiled softly. Obviously her three younger companions were waiting for her to return before they ate.

Quickly she took out a small bowl from her own bag and filled it with water from a skin, sprinkling the surface with ground herbs from a pouch at her waist and swirling her hands through it as she began her prayers, crouching in front of the bowl and looking deeply into it. The words she started to repeat at the same time formed part of the ritual – a ritual observance performed by Poseidon's Oracle for generations, whose origins were lost in the mists of time. As she spoke a wave of calm swept over the prophetess. No matter what circumstances they were delivered in the familiar nature of her prayers to Poseidon never failed to calm her.

As she prayed the Oracle began to feel the first indications that a vision was about to overcome her. Her eyes closed as her trance deepened, the images that came into her mind unbidden demanding her full attention. Poseidon was determined to show her a possible version of the future it seemed. Unbeknownst to the Oracle the conversation of her three companions had dwindled to nothing as they became aware of her activities. Of the three of them only Ariadne had seen the Oracle in a full prophetic trance before; had seen the woman receiving a vision. For the two men the experience was decidedly unnerving.

Jason crossed the camp and crouched down in front of the Oracle with her bowl in between them, his eyes wide. In the past when he had gone to the Oracle for answers there had been moments when she seemed to be consulting some sort of higher power but she had never seemed lost to the world – lost to him – in the way she did right now. As he watched her eyes snapped open, wide and staring, and she drew in a deep shuddering breath.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

The Oracle blinked at him for a moment before her features settled into a strained smile.

"The Gods do not always pick convenient moments to deliver their messages," she answered.

Jason frowned.

"What did they say?"

The Oracle blinked slowly again.

"The images that I see are not always clear," she said. "Others must interpret them as they can. Their message on this occasion was not for anyone here… you should not concern yourself with it."

Jason's frown deepened.

"Why do all my instincts tell me that you're lying to me?" he asked softly. "From the moment that we met you've misled me so many times… kept so much from me… how can I believe what you say is true now?"

The Oracle reached across the bowl and grasped his wrist.

"Everything I have done," she said. "Everything I have told you… or not told you… has been to protect you."

Jason snorted faintly.

"To fulfil this so-call destiny… this _fate_ that you claim has been decided for me," he said more than a little bitterly.

"Yes," the Oracle agreed, "and no. I do not wish to see you harmed in any way. Your destiny is indeed a great one but it is not the only reason I have sought to aid and protect you."

Jason looked down at the ground.

"Alright," he said. He looked up at the Oracle again. "You should eat something. We'll be leaving soon."

The Oracle smiled at him as Jason pushed himself to his feet and made his way around the remains of their campfire to where the bowls of food were laid out, picking one up and sitting down to eat it. She accepted her own bowl from Ariadne with thanks and bent low over it.

The vision that she had seen had been clear and soon she would have to decide how to act to prevent it from coming to pass. Whatever happened she had to stop the images she had seen, no matter what the cost. The sooner they could get to Dodona the better. Then she could begin.

* * *

Pythagoras frowned as he looked at the herbs he was grinding between two rocks. Were they fine enough to use in a tonic? No, he decided. They really needed to be just a little finer to work to full effect. He sighed, feeling the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. How was he really supposed to keep the Queen alive out here with no supplies? The woman was grievously injured and really it was a miracle under the circumstances that she had not succumbed to her wound already. Clearly Pasiphae was made of stern stuff. But then, he reflected, so was Jason so really it should come as no surprise that his mother had the same tendencies. Even so though Pythagoras was only too aware that the Queen's health was dreadfully precarious at the moment, that there was still a risk of the blood loss from her injury carrying her away, or of a fatal infection setting in at any moment – particularly given the lack of proper medical care.

He was doing his best – of course he was. The knowledge that his friend would be devastated if his mother died under the current circumstances spurring him on. Yet there really was only so much he could do. He had removed the arrow that had been embedded in Pasiphae's stomach as soon as they had stopped here four days ago and had stemmed the bleeding with cloth torn from a cloak of one of the Palace guards who had accompanied them – not as clean as he would have liked but the only thing available to him at the time. Having cleansed the wound as best he could with water poured from one of the skins carried by the soldiers as part of their standard equipment (he had learned over the last four days that Dion insisted that all his men kept their standard equipment up to scratch), he had packed it with medicinal herbs swiftly harvested by both himself and Melas (who seemed to have some sort of experience of treating wounds – although he hated to think how that experience had been gained) and wrapped it securely in a bandage of white cloth which had once been part of the himation that Melas wore over his purple chiton and had been sacrificed to the Queen's need. It was hardly a proper bandage; hardly clean enough for what Pythagoras needed but it had had to do.

He didn't even have a cup to measure out and administer painkilling and healing tonics. The best he could do was to guess the proportions of herbs he needed, grind them up and try to pour them into one of the water skins before giving them to the Queen. It was frighteningly inexact to his logical mind and meant that he struggled to ensure that Pasiphae was getting a proper dose – neither too much nor too little. He had not even been able to make the woman more comfortable by switching her blood-stained and torn dress for a more suitable garment – they simply did not have anything else for her to wear. It galled Pythagoras that there was really little he could do to ensure his patient's comfort under the circumstances. She needed to be resting in a proper bed, with proper tonics and clean supplies if she were to stand a decent chance of recovery – and even then her recovery would not be certain given the nature of her wound.

At present she lay on the hard ground, protected only by his and Dion's cloaks. It was hardly the soft bed that Pythagoras would have liked to see her resting in; hardly conducive to her comfort or recuperation. He glanced across the fire towards where she was lying and frowned, trying to gauge whether her colour was better or worse than it had been a few hours ago. He thought perhaps that it was a little better – a little less grey – although he knew only too well that an increase in colour could indicate the start of a fever. Pythagoras bit his lip. He really did need to stop overthinking things; needed to stop allowing his mind to conjure up the worst possible outcome from the situation.

Looking back down at the stones the young mathematician decided that the herbs he had been grinding were now fine enough. Much more and they would be unusable dust. With great care he brushed them into the neck of a water skin, trying to funnel them with his fingers to avoid wasting any. Carefully stoppering the skin, he shook it a couple of times to try and distribute the herbs evenly throughout the water. It was far from ideal and not one of his better prepared tonics but under the circumstances he decided that it was the best that he could do. Certainly neither the King nor the Queen had objected to his ministrations so far. In fact Minos appeared only too grateful that _someone_ was attempting to look after his wife.

Another quick glance across the fire told the young genius that Pasiphae still seemed to be asleep. He sighed. Much as he hated to disturb the healing rest that she needed he really did need to check her wound to make sure that it was not suppurating. Of all the possible outcomes infection was the one he most dreaded in this case. Given how much she had been sleeping though he rather hoped that he could manage to check the injury without ever waking the Queen – it would be better for all concerned if that was the case. For once Minos had left his wife's side; had been persuaded by Melas to try to get some rest. No doubt it would not be long until he returned but his absence allowed Pythagoras the opportunity to examine his patient without having to answer questions from her naturally anxious husband.

On silent feet Pythagoras made his way around the fire, the tonic filled water skin clutched in one hand. He dropped down to his knees alongside the Queen and with quick but gentle fingers began to check the bandage at her midriff. The wound that lay beneath was ugly but to Pythagoras' relief showed no signs of infection. Even without that risk, however, it was still serious enough to present a danger to the Queen's life, although the more time passed the more chance Pasiphae had of making a recovery – although how long that recovery might take Pythagoras did not know; until he could get the woman to a place more conducive to healing her recovery would be far from certain.

The young genius sat back on his heels and blew a heavy breath in relief, as satisfied as he could be that Pasiphae was not in imminent danger of taking a turn for the worst. He glanced up at her face to gauge her colour at this close range and almost fell backwards in surprise when he found a pair of weary dark eyes watching him calmly. Pasiphae allowed a faint, amused smile to grace her lips at his startled jump.

"Your Majesty," Pythagoras stammered. "I did not mean to wake you."

"Pythagoras," Pasiphae returned his greeting, her voice low and weak. "Do not concern yourself. I have been awake for some time."

She tried to ease herself into a more comfortable position and winced, her face screwing up with pain. Without even stopping to think and with practiced ease, Pythagoras slipped a hand under her shoulders and raised them from the ground, lifting the tonic filled skin to her lips at the same time. Once he was as satisfied as he could be with the amount of fluid she had managed to consume he re-stoppered the skin and dropped it to the ground beside the Queen before carefully lowering her head back onto her own rolled cloak, used to form a makeshift pillow, and began to fuss with the cloak that lay over her, smoothing out the creases in the hope of making her a little more comfortable.

"The herbs should start to work and lessen your pain shortly," he said softly.

"Thank you," Pasiphae responded with genuine gratitude. She looked around the cavern as best she could from her supine position. "Jason?" she asked hopefully.

Pythagoras sighed. He hated to disappoint the Queen but in all conscience could not lie to her.

"I am sure he will be here soon," he said comfortingly.

"That is what you have been saying ever since we arrived here," Pasiphae retorted with as much sharpness as she could muster. It was at best a weak attempt.

"I still believe it," Pythagoras answered.

"Why?"

"Because Jason has never let me down," the mathematician responded promptly. "He will come as soon as he is able."

Pasiphae sighed and allowed her eyes to close for a moment. Then she opened them and searched the young and earnest face before her.

"You are very loyal," she remarked, and for once it didn't sound like a rebuke.

Pythagoras half smiled.

"Jason tends to inspire loyalty," he said. "Even when he does not realise he is doing it. I think it because he is so loyal himself. It is hard not to be loyal to someone who would willingly give their life to save yours; who would walk into Hades to save a friend."

"He is special," Pasiphae agreed. "Unique." She sighed. "He was lost to me for so many years. I cannot lose him again."

"You will not," Pythagoras answered reassuringly. "Jason will be here soon."

"I can see why my son chose you as a friend," the Queen said. "I am glad that he has found people who have so much faith in him… Who have treated him with kindness."

"I would not have acted in any other way," Pythagoras said. He looked at Pasiphae searchingly. "How are you feeling?" he enquired.

"Like I was shot," she responded wryly. "It is bearable."

Pythagoras nodded.

"The pain is lessening?" he asked.

"Yes," Pasiphae answered. "Your herbs are having the desired effect. I will live."

"But you must rest," the young genius stated. He hesitated for a moment. "The King is very worried about you My Lady," he added.

"Minos is protective of his family," Pasiphae agreed. "He will be worrying about Ariadne as well."

"Yes," Pythagoras said. He looked appraisingly at the Queen. "You should try to get some sleep My Lady," he advised.

"I wish to see Jason return," Pasiphae answered, her voice dropping with exhaustion.

"Do not worry," Pythagoras responded. "I will wake you the instant he arrives. I give you my word."

Whether it was because of his promise or whether the Queen's body decided to choose this moment to give in to the exhaustion that was trying to claim her Pythagoras could not be sure. All he could really say was that she gave a sigh and allowed her eyes to drop closed, sleep claiming her almost instantly. The young mathematician frowned. He was worried by how weak the woman was, although he knew that it was only to be expected given the nature of her injury.

With one last twitch of the cloak covering the Queen – one last attempt to ensure that she stayed as warm as possible – Pythagoras pushed himself to his feet and made his way to the cave entrance, running one weary hand through his hair. The day was clear – fine – and the sun was bright as it shone through the trees into the clearing that the cave stood at the edge of, dappling the ground with light and shadow. The sacred grove of Dodona was a beautiful and tranquil place. Pythagoras looked out from the concealed entrance and sighed softly, the serenity of the grove seeping into him. It had been a difficult few days and somehow he couldn't see the immediate future getting any better.

"Where in the name of the Gods do you think you're going?" Hercules' voice stopped the young mathematician in his tracks as he was about to leave the cave.

"I need more herbs," Pythagoras responded softly.

He really didn't have the time or energy to argue with Hercules right now and just hoped that his large friend would let him get on without too much trouble.

Hercules looked at the weary slump to Pythagoras' shoulders and frowned. The lad was running himself ragged trying to help everyone and it really wasn't that long since he'd been seriously ill with fever – just a few weeks. He ought to be trying to get what rest he could while things were quiet. After all the Queen might still take a turn for the worse at any moment and then Pythagoras' skills would be needed and he would need to be at his most alert and capable, not half dead with fatigue.

"I can do that," he rumbled gently. "You should be trying to get some sleep while you can."

Pythagoras shot him an incredulous look.

"You would not know what to pick," he said. "I would ask for orris root or betony and get parsley or marjoram."

Hercules wanted to protest but Pythagoras was right – he knew little of herbs beyond the culinary uses of some of them.

"Just let me get a cloak and come with you," he said. "None of us should be going out alone. The Amphigeneians are bound to be looking for the King by now."

"I think we are safe enough here for the present Hercules," Pythagoras murmured.

"Nowhere's safe," Hercules disagreed, turning to find his cloak.

Pythagoras waited where he was. It was easier to simply give in and let Hercules come with him, and the burly wrestler might have a point. It probably was safer for them to go out in pairs rather than alone. Of course Pythagoras was so tired right now that he couldn't be sure; couldn't think straight.

Hercules returned in moments with his cloak on and thrust a second blue cloak at Pythagoras. The young mathematician stared at it blankly for a minute before looking up at Hercules in confusion.

"Put it on," his older friend said patiently. "Asopus leant it to me so that you could keep warm. It's his turn to be on guard inside so he won't need it for a bit."

"I'll have to remember to thank him later," Pythagoras said quietly, taking the cloak and slipping it over his head.

For a time Pythagoras wandered here and there in silence, picking odd herbs as he went and stuffing them into a pouch at his waist without looking. It was far from his usual careful manner and Hercules watched him with growing concern but chose not to say anything for the moment. Finally the young mathematician gave a heavy sigh and stopped in the shade of a large tree, staring unseeingly at the ground.

"What did we _really_ come out here for?" Hercules asked gently. "If you really needed more herbs you'd be picking more than you are… and taking more care about what you were picking for that matter."

Pythagoras frowned and looked at him sharply.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"Because even I know that hemlock is poisonous and how to recognise it," Hercules answered with a raised eyebrow.

Pythagoras swore and scrabbled in the pouch on his belt, pulling out a handful of herbs and staring at them in consternation. He swore again.

"That was not what I thought I was picking," he muttered sheepishly.

"I worked that out," Hercules responded.

Pythagoras sighed and sank down to the ground, his back to a tree trunk and his knees pulled up under his chin. Hercules sat down next to him and nudged him gently with one shoulder.

"So what _are_ we out here for?" he asked softly.

Pythagoras bit his lip and wrapped his arms loosely around his knees.

"I just needed to get away," he confessed. "To not think about anything for a while. To not have to worry about…" he trailed off into silence.

Hercules patted him gently on the shoulder.

"Everything will be fine," he said comfortingly.

"Will it?" Pythagoras asked. "How can you be so sure? Atlantis has fallen and we are exiles, on the run with the King; running for our lives from the Amphigeneians. Jason is missing… and so are the Princess _and_ the Oracle. The Queen is badly injured and at risk from infection. Nothing is right."

"The Queen will be fine," Hercules rumbled. "I know you… you'll have done your best for her."

"But what if my best is not good enough?"

"It will be," Hercules rumbled. "You're clever. There's no man cleverer than you." He paused briefly. "Unless there's something you're not telling me that is," he added looking hard at the young genius.

Pythagoras worried at his lip.

"No," he admitted. "There is nothing that I _know_ of… it is more that I am worrying about all the things that could go wrong."

"There's no point going and borrowing trouble," Hercules pointed out. "I think we've got enough of that already."

Pythagoras ignored the comment and glanced back towards the cave entrance.

"She is worrying about Jason," he said softly. "Using energy that she should be putting in to getting well."

"We're all worried about Jason," Hercules sighed.

He caught Pythagoras' knowing look and cleared his throat.

"Not that I worry you understand," he added.

"Of course not," Pythagoras agreed, a little spark of mirth dancing in his blue eyes.

"That boy had better have a damned good explanation for where he's been that's all I can say!"

"I'm sure he will, Hercules," Pythagoras ventured. "I cannot see that Jason would have stayed away without good reason. For all his faults he does not like upsetting people."

Hercules deflated.

"No… no he doesn't," he said softly.

"Do you still mean to go looking for him?"

Hercules looked out across the grove thoughtfully.

"I do," he said. "If Jason hasn't joined us by nightfall I'm going back to the city to look for him."

"It is madness," Pythagoras argued. "If you are caught…"

"I won't be," the burly wrestler stated confidently. "Besides why would they even look at me? I'm just another ordinary person going about my ordinary day. I'll head back to the city and have a nose around… see if Meriones has heard anything. If Jason and Ariadne were caught escaping then at least we'll know… and can try to do something about it."

"And if they were not? If they are no longer in the city?"

"Then I'll make my way back here so we can try to work out where the wretched boy has got to." Hercules glanced about the grove again. "It's peaceful here," he noted.

"Yes," Pythagoras agreed.

Hercules slipped a burly arm around his friend's thin shoulders, allowing the young man to lean into him for a bit. After a few minutes he gave the shoulders a squeeze and looked across at the mathematician.

"Are you ready to go back?" he asked.

"Not quite yet," admitted Pythagoras. "You go back… I just need a few more minutes."

"Then I'll stay with you."

"You're a good man Hercules… a good friend."

Hercules sighed.

"You and I have been friends for more years than I care to remember," he said softly. "I haven't always been the best of friends."

"No," Pythagoras agreed. "There have been times when I have cursed your name… when you have been drunk or gambled away all our money."

"That's a bare faced lie!"

"Is it?"

"No," Hercules admitted. "I've spent most of my life in taverns… drinking or gambling… pretending that I was a hero. You boys… you and Jason… you're the only family I've got left… and if I can't keep _him_ safe then at least I can stay and try to help _you_."

Pythagoras smiled gently and patted the big man's free hand.

"Thank you old friend," he said.

* * *

By the time the late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, lengthening the shadows that spread across the forest floor, Jason was feeling pretty awful. The headache that had started in the pre-dawn hours had only increased in strength as the day had gone on until it had reached blistering proportions. Jason grimaced. Over the past few weeks he had been getting headaches of various strengths on an increasing basis. Whilst he knew that they were mainly being triggered by stress and tension, knowing that did not make them easier to handle and he feared that a full blown migraine was lurking somewhere around the corner. Now _that_ was definitely something he wanted to avoid if it was at all possible – especially out here in the wilderness. He got the feeling that a migraine – if it were the same sort that he used to occasionally get in his former life – would be difficult enough to manage in the relative comfort of his own home in Atlantis, or in his chambers in the Palace, but out here in the woods it would be unimaginably hard.

The young man paused and ran a tired and frustrated hand through his dark curls. The throbbing behind his eyes was making it hard to think straight and he knew it; was making it hard to concentrate on anything other than how he was feeling. At least the shade provided by the trees was lowering the light level to a point where it was bearable for him – which was something he supposed. _Stop feeling sorry for yourself_ , he thought grimly, _you've felt worse than this_. It was true too; he _had_ felt worse than this – had been more seriously injured… and more seriously ill for that matter. But that didn't change the fact that he still felt pretty rough right now. All that was really keeping him going was the thought that his friends would be waiting for him at the end of it and that hopefully there might be a nice warm fire somewhere that he could curl up next to and some sort of medicine or tonic that would relieve any aches and pains.

Exhaustion was lingering though, making him feel heavy and dull. Somehow he'd lost track of where they were going; hoped that he was still leading his little group in the right direction – the direction that the Oracle had pointed him in; knew that he should stop and rest but equally knew that it was safer to keep going and try to find the others; that there was safety in numbers and that at least once the two groups joined up there might be more people to take some of the responsibility for the safety of Ariadne and the Oracle off his hands. He closed his eyes for a moment and wavered slightly as a sudden surge of light-headedness swept over him. It wasn't true dizziness he decided randomly – just enough to take him slightly off balance.

A soft hand grasping his upper arm with remarkable firmness jerked his eyes back open and he found himself looking straight into the troubled eyes of the Princess.

"We should stop," Ariadne murmured with some concern, running a hand across Jason's forehead and down the side of his face. "Rest for a while."

"No," Jason retorted. "We need to carry on to Dodona and find the others before nightfall."

"We do not even know that they will still be there," Ariadne argued, "and I cannot see that it will make much difference whether we reach there this evening or in the morning."

Jason frowned.

"The longer we take getting to Dodona the more likely it becomes that they'll have moved on," he stated. "We might end up wandering the woods in hope of finding one another right up until the point we're all caught by the Amphigeneians. Anaxandros would deeply love to get his hands on both your father and you… and I can't let that happen. The Oracle says that Melas will have led the others to Dodona so that's where we need to go to start looking for them. Besides, you can't tell me that you don't want to see your father again."

"Of course I want to see my father," Ariadne said flatly, "but not at your expense… You seem unwell and I think that you would benefit from resting."

"I'm alright," Jason answered with a soft sigh. "I've just got a slight headache… nothing to worry about."

 _That_ , he thought bleakly, _is the understatement of the year_. Yet there was simply no point whining about it when there was nothing that could be done right now; letting Ariadne and the others know just how much his head was pounding or how tired he felt would serve little purpose other than to worry his companions – especially when they were so close to their destination.

Ariadne gave him a knowing look.

"You are very stubborn," she chided lightly.

"Yes," Jason acknowledged, "but you already knew that." He paused. "It will be safer for us once we have found the others anyway… more people to share the watch and all that."

Ariadne turned and glanced across to where their other two companions were waiting expectantly for them to move on.

"Very well," she reluctantly agreed. "We will move on… but once we have found the others you need to rest. You are clearly tired."

"Once we've found the others we can all rest," Jason responded. He looked about himself absently and suddenly froze, peering hard into the hollow of the tree he had stopped next to. Suddenly he smiled.

Ariadne stared at him, confused by his sudden change in mood.

"What is it?" she asked.

Jason reached into the tree and pulled out a pine cone, three sticks and a small pebble.

"It's a sign," he said softly. "We're closer to Dodona than I thought." His grin widened at the honest confusion gracing Ariadne's beautiful features.

"A sign?" Nisos said sceptically. "Three sticks and a pinecone?"

"And a pebble," Jason agreed brightly giving a faint chuckle at the frowns he was seeing on his companions' faces. "It's a marker," he added by way of explanation.

"A marker," Ariadne said flatly.

"When Pythagoras and I first started going hunting with Hercules he taught us both a system of markers that he'd come up with so that we could find one another if we were ever separated," Jason explained. "It wouldn't mean anything to anyone else but if we ever have to move on in a hurry we can use it to tell each other where we've gone… where we are. Hercules or Pythagoras put these bits here for me to find to let me know where they're camped. We're nearly there."

"You really think that this is a sign left by Hercules?" Ariadne asked. She wanted to believe Jason but was a little concerned that he was seeing what he wanted to see given how keen he clearly was to find his friends.

"Or Pythagoras," Jason said. "Yes I do." He looked at the path ahead with renewed energy. "We're nearly there," he breathed again, stepping forwards. He looked back over his shoulder at his three companions. "Come on," he demanded hurrying off down the path and leaving the other three to catch him up.

* * *

The closer it came to nightfall the more unsettled Pythagoras became. He knew that Hercules would be true to his word and go looking for Jason and honestly he couldn't blame him. If he had had any choice in the matter he would be right there with the wrestler himself. After all Jason had been separated from them for far too long – should have managed to get here days ago – and the mathematician couldn't help but conjure up all sorts of dire reasons in his head for their friend's absence. As things were though there really was no way that he would be willing to leave the Queen at the moment. He might not like Pasiphae – might not trust her – but he still could not stand by and see her come to harm if it were in his power to help. He would stay and try to assist in her continued recovery until such time as he could be assured that the woman was out of danger. After all he couldn't help believing that it is what Jason would want.

Knowing that he was doing the right thing and understanding both Hercules' feeling and proposed actions didn't make anything any easier, however. For the fifth time in the last half hour he pushed himself to his feet intending on going outside to pace the grove once more. This time however he found himself restrained by a calloused hand.

"Sit down," Hercules growled firmly, "you're making me dizzy with all the pacing."

"I just thought I might get some more firewood… in case we run low in the night," Pythagoras responded unconvincingly.

Hercules raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the large stack of wood piled neatly to one side of the cave.

"Because you never know when we might need to build a bonfire," he groused.

Pythagoras blushed.

"I was just…"

"I know what you were _just_ going to do," Hercules rumbled. "Sit down and calm down."

"I am perfectly calm," the young genius protested, running a hand through his blonde curls but complying with Hercules' demand and sitting back down near the fire. He stared into the flames for a moment. "You are going to slip away while I am asleep tonight aren't you?"

Hercules hesitated for a moment.

"I think the less people that know that I'm going the better don't you?" he answered.

Before Pythagoras could respond there was a commotion from the entrance to the cave as Asopus came back in suddenly, grinning broadly. Dion was over to him in an instant. The big general had been attempting to confer with the King – not an easy task at present given how deeply Minos had withdrawn into himself and how focussed he was on both his wife's health and his daughter's whereabouts.

"You are supposed to be on watch," Dion growled to smiling soldier. "Has something happened?"

"I found something out there and thought I should bring it back for you to see," Asopus answered cheerfully, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

Before Dion could question him any further, Princess Ariadne appeared in the cave entrance. The girl looked a little tired but otherwise unharmed and still as beautiful as ever, even dressed in men's clothing ( _Jason's_ clothing Pythagoras couldn't help but note with a wry smile) with a bow slung across her back and a satchel bouncing on her hip.

"Ariadne," Minos gasped, jerking to his feet and darting around the fire to take his daughter into his arms, murmuring words that only she could hear into her hair.

It was the most animated that he had been in days and spoke whole volumes for how worried about his beloved daughter he had been, Pythagoras thought. The young mathematician turned his attention back to the others that had entered the cave. Melas had gone to meet the Oracle, he noted, and had drawn her off to one side, already deep in conversation, and Dion was currently receiving a report from Nisos, the junior officer standing to attention and looking straight ahead impassively, although his eyes strayed from time to time to the companions he had entered with.

That left one more person from the group that they believed had escaped from the Temple together. Pythagoras' eyes found Jason's and he couldn't help the broad grin that came across his face, knowing that to one side of him Hercules probably looked the same. Then the grin morphed into a faint frown. Something wasn't quite right; something about Jason seemed off. He looked downright exhausted for a start, but it was more than that. He was carrying himself stiffly; standing defensively, partially turned to the side as though he was favouring one side, protecting it from damage – or further damage, Pythagoras suspected.

His eyes strayed from Pythagoras' and found the still form lying on the far side of the fire, guilt flaring in them as he did so and he tensed even further. Pythagoras bit his lip. He should have expected that reaction really. Jason had an annoying habit of trying to take the weight of the world on his shoulders; of blaming himself for things that really weren't his fault in any way. With short strides the young genius crossed to his friend's side and slid an arm around Jason.

"How is she?" Jason asked.

"As well as can be expected," Pythagoras hedged, not wishing to seem overly optimistic but still wishing to give his friend some comfort.

He knew better than anyone that any injury could result in unforeseen complications – and that a serious injury was the most fluid in terms of recovery. He caught the way that Jason bit his lip unhappily, the guilt and worry flaring even more in his eyes and sought to try to alleviate a little of it.

"The Queen _is_ very weak and in some pain," the young mathematician admitted, "but she is remarkably lucid when she is awake. She is strong and resilient. I have no reason to believe at this present moment that she will not recover." He glanced across the fire towards Pasiphae. "She has asked after you whenever she has been awake," he added. "She has been worrying. I believe that she will rest more easily now that you are here. That can only be good for her recovery."

Jason nodded, never taking his eyes off his mother. Pythagoras gave his friend's shoulders a squeeze.

"I promised Her Majesty that I would wake her when you arrived," he said softly.

Before he could cross to the Queen's side, to wake her and tell her that her son had arrived, Pythagoras was stopped by Ariadne who, extracting herself from her father's embrace, made her way over with a smile and held out the satchel she had been carrying.

"I am afraid I borrowed it from Jason's room when the Amphigeneians attacked," she said. "I hope you don't mind too much." She paused and looked a little guilty. "I am afraid I took your scrolls out to fit a blanket and some spare clothes in, but I left everything else in there… I thought the herbs might be useful."

Pythagoras beamed as he took the bag.

"Thank you," he said genuinely. "My medical supplies are in here. You have no idea what a relief it is to know that I can properly mix tonics now instead of guessing at doses… and to have clean bandages available again."

He hugged the satchel to himself and made his way over to the Queen's side, much happier than he had been just a short time earlier. Jason's arrival had taken a great load off his mind and the fact that he now had access to slightly better medical supplies (albeit limited in quantity) cheered him.

Jason watched him cross the cave with wildly swinging emotions. He was incredibly happy to see his friends again – of course he was – but mixed up with it was a large dose of fear (both for his mother's wellbeing and the future of them all) and guilt that Pasiphae had been hurt because of him in the first place. His head was still pounding and the ache from his broken ribs seemed to provide a throbbing counterpoint with every breath he took. For a moment the young man allowed his eyes to drift longingly towards the fire and his thoughts turn to his desire to simply curl up near it and try to sleep away the worst of how he was feeling. He was too tired to think any more, too tired to do anything, and dark, unhappy thoughts gnawed at the edges of his mind.

"So where in the name of the Gods have you been?"

Hercules' barked question was almost a welcome distraction. The burly wrestler had come to stand next to him while Jason hadn't been paying attention but there was affection in his broad face despite his harsh tone and concern in his eyes. Jason allowed that affection and concern to wrap around him and bolster him, knowing that it would not be long now until he could rest properly.

"There were Amphigeneian patrols everywhere in the woods," he murmured quietly so that only Hercules could hear him. "I didn't want to lead them here so we took our time evading them – making sure that they didn't follow us. They began to withdraw to the city yesterday so we took our chance to slip through." He glanced at Hercules and took in the big man's frown. "I'll tell you all about it in the morning but I'm a bit too tired to think right now." He reached up and rubbed his forehead.

Hercules' frown deepened.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Mmm," Jason responded non-committally. "Headache."

"Pythagoras probably has something in his bag of tricks that'll help with that," the big man pointed out.

"I know," Jason agreed. "I'll ask him as soon as we're both free."

He looked up to see Pythagoras beckoning him over.

"I think that's my cue," he said softly, before trotting over to where his friend waited with the Queen.

Everything else could wait, he decided. Right now what he needed most was to make sure that his mother was recovering; needed to see for himself that she would be alright.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Greetings to all my wonderful readers and thank you all once again for the lovely reviews. Since I've managed to finish this chapter a little sooner than I thought I would I decided to publish it a few days early :-) There might be a bit of a break to the next one because I'm going to be away on holiday from the end of this week with no internet access. Enough of the next chapter though. Without any further ado let's get on with this one. Enjoy (I hope).

* * *

Trying to muster at least a semblance of his usual energy Jason headed around the fire and carefully – oh so carefully – dropped down to his knees alongside his mother. He could feel Pythagoras' eyes burning into him, had caught the mathematician's curious look at how carefully he was moving, and knew that his friend had already realised that there was something wrong beyond simple tiredness. He glanced up at Pythagoras and approximated a smile.

"We'll talk afterwards," he said softly, begging Pythagoras with his eyes not to make scene now in front of the Queen.

Pythagoras nodded and smiled but his eyes remained worried, a little frown creasing his brow between them.

"Alright," he said.

Jason silently sighed in relief. He had no problem with asking his friends for help and telling them that he was perhaps a little less than completely well, or to submitting to Pythagoras' gentle ministrations and firm assertions that he should rest (which he _knew_ would be the end result once Pythagoras knew how poorly he was feeling). In fact right at this moment in time he would positively welcome it; anything that made him feel just a little bit better would be more than welcome.

The issue here, however, was timing. Pythagoras had suggested that Pasiphae had been worried about him (although part of Jason still couldn't quite get his head around that fact; was a little confused by the idea of having so many people who apparently cared about him after so many years of being alone) and had hinted at the fact that expending her energy on worry might hinder her recovery. Knowing that he was injured in any way (no matter how slight) might only make her worry more and Jason was not willing to take that risk. It wasn't that he wanted to keep things from his mother and knew that if the subject came up he would undoubtedly tell her the truth, but if he could stop her finding out until _after_ he'd had a chance to ask Pythagoras to fix him up he would; would save her from additional unnecessary worry if it was possible.

It would be for the best if he could spend a little time with Pasiphae now, just to assure himself that she _was_ going to get better, and then go and let Pythagoras do whatever he needed to do to make Jason feel better. Then, hopefully, he might actually be able to get a decent night's sleep (a luxury at the moment) and approach his mother in the morning in a much better frame of mind and in a position to reassure her that, yes, he wasn't quite well – was a little the worse for wear – but that he was mending and was being taken care of.

Jason looked up and his eyes met Pasiphae's; eyes that were so like his own in many ways. Automatically he started to search her face, eyes sweeping over her in an attempt to gauge how she really was, and almost smiled when he realised that she was doing the same thing to him. She looked tired, he decided – very tired – and her face was very pale, brows marked with faint lines of pain. Jason fought against the urge to bite his lip, knowing that his mother disliked the gesture intensely. Guilt surged through him. _This was all his fault_. If only he'd been a little more attentive to his surroundings, if only he'd been a little quicker, or fought a little harder, none of this would have happened.

"Hello," he murmured awkwardly, very aware of his mother's scrutiny and wanting to spare her from his problems. She had enough to contend with at the moment without him adding any worries to it.

"Jason," Pasiphae's voice was soft and weak but full of relief; full of love.

Jason blinked in surprise. He wasn't entirely sure what sort of greeting he had been expecting but somehow this wasn't it.

"You have no idea how relieved I am that you are safe," Pasiphae went on. She searched his face again and frowned. "You look tired my love."

Jason huffed a faint laugh.

"You can talk," he answered quickly.

Pasiphae smiled warmly. It was an expression that suited her, Pythagoras decided, although it was not one he would ever have dreamed of seeing on the face of Atlantis' fearsome Queen. He felt a little awkward standing there watching one of his best friends talking to his mother, as though he was intruding on something very private and very precious. While he did want to re-examine Pasiphae's wound and perhaps to re-dress it now that he had proper bandages he decided that it could wait – that perhaps what he was witnessing was more important to the Queen's wellbeing than any purely medical help he could provide. Discreetly he stepped back out of earshot, allowing mother and son the privacy he felt they both craved whilst still being near enough if his help were required.

"Don't be cheeky," Pasiphae admonished Jason lightly, her eyes bright with faint mirth. "I am your mother and you are supposed to listen to me."

Jason grinned, although guilt still gnawed at his stomach, stopping the smile from fully reaching his eyes.

"Since when?" he asked.

"Since I told you so," Pasiphae answered. Then her face grew serious. "When you did not join us immediately I was worried," she said softly.

"I'm sorry," Jason ventured, looking down at the floor and swallowing hard. "I got here as quickly as I could."

"You are here now and that is all that matters," his mother responded. "You are tired and must rest. Anything else can wait until later."

She reached up with one delicate hand and rested it against Jason's cheek, the stubble rough against her palm. Turning it over she grazed her knuckles lightly down the side of his face, relishing the fact that after so much worry her son was there with her. Jason reached up and caught her hand in his own, bringing it down slightly to place a gentle kiss against her fingers. His affection was still so new – still tentative and hesitant – yet Pasiphae found herself both charmed and delighted by it. They had known one another (known each other as people rather than strangers across an arena – adversaries) for such a short time that for Jason to have developed any sort of affection – any sort of love – for her was amazing, Pasiphae decided. After all she had had far longer to get used to the idea of being his mother than he had had to get used to being her son.

Suddenly desperate to sit up and talk to her son properly, to be on a level with him and to begin to return to life, Pasiphae pushed herself up from the floor, wincing at the sharp pain that lanced through her stomach as she did so and disgusted by the weakness she felt in her own limbs. With grim determination she forced herself to ride out the wave of agony that swept over her and briefly darkened her vision, closing her eyes against it and locking her elbows to keep herself upright. A strong arm slipped gently behind her shoulders, supporting her and Pasiphae could not help but smile knowing that Jason had moved into place to help her – the feel of him so new and yet becoming so familiar so quickly. She opened her eyes to smile at him, feeling the rough wall of the cave at her back and the warmth of his arm still behind her shoulders. From just out of earshot Pythagoras hurried back to her side, his blue eyes registering his alarm.

"My Lady," he said anxiously. "You should not be exerting yourself in this way."

"Do not concern yourself," Pasiphae retorted. "I am fine."

Pythagoras raised a disbelieving eyebrow and glanced at Jason.

"At least we know where you get it from now," he remarked cryptically.

"Get what from?" Jason asked with confusion, still supporting his mother's shoulders.

"The habit of trying to make light of any injury – particularly a serious one," Pythagoras sniffed. "It seems to be a family trait." He turned back to Pasiphae. "You are unwell Your Majesty," he said, "and I do not wish to see your recovery hindered by overexertion when you should be resting."

"I am not so very ill," Pasiphae snapped, "and I cannot see that sitting up for a time will harm me in any way. We cannot remain in this cave indefinitely and if we are to have any chance of removing Anaxandros from Atlantis – of returning to our rightful places – we cannot allow ourselves to be slowed down by an injury that I am rapidly recovering from. I need to begin to get back to normal and I firmly believe that forcing myself into some form of activity cannot be anything other than beneficial for me."

Pythagoras opened his mouth to protest, the healer in him unable to do anything else even if disagreeing with the Queen was likely to be less than beneficial for his health. Before he could get so far as to speak, however, a sudden snort came from the other side of Pasiphae, and both the mathematician and the Queen looked up in surprise as Jason dissolved into helpless giggles.

"What is so funny?" Pasiphae demanded, although her eyes softened in the face of her son's laughter.

"I'm sorry," Jason gasped breathlessly between chuckles, "it's just that I never thought I'd hear someone else sound so much like me. I mean I'd probably be a bit less formal but I always feel like I know my own body better than anyone else too."

He had to admit to himself that laughing was hurting like hell right now, just as much as coughing did, but somehow he couldn't seem to stop, a combination of his own exhaustion and swinging emotions getting the better of him and forcing a release. As if thinking about it had summoned it Jason felt a cough beginning to bubble up in his throat but he swallowed it down as hard as he could, forcing himself to sober up in an attempt not to worry either one of his companions unnecessarily.

"Sorry," he gasped again, still trying to catch his breath.

Pythagoras frowned. He hadn't failed to spot the little lines of pain that had formed around his friend's eyes even in the midst of his laughter, and had realised how hard Jason was fighting to avoid coughing and to regain his breath. Definitely something wrong with his chest or side then. Pythagoras' mind started to whir, analysing and assessing, trying to work out what the problem might be. Jason had said that they would talk later and he believed that his friend was being honest – that he fully intended to tell Pythagoras what was wrong on this occasion (which in itself worried the mathematician given how reticent Jason often was with regards to discussing his own wellbeing) – but surely it couldn't hurt to try to get a little forewarning?

He looked back at his friend speculatively to find Jason watching him calmly, clearly knowing what he was doing.

"Later," Jason mouthed.

Pythagoras narrowed his eyes in acknowledgement. Then he turned back to the Queen.

"How are you feeling Your Majesty?" he asked solicitously.

Pasiphae quirked an eyebrow.

"You ask that every time I am awake," she noted with some asperity.

"Yes," Pythagoras agreed undaunted, "and your response allows me to judge how well you are progressing and how long your recovery might take."

The Queen nodded her understanding.

"And your verdict?" she asked.

"You are better than I could have hoped given the surroundings," Pythagoras answered. "I have access to proper medical supplies now… at least enough to be going on with… yet until you might be allowed to rest in a proper bed I believe your recovery will be hindered. This cave is hardly conducive to proper convalescence."

"I will be fine," Pasiphae murmured, glancing at Jason and noticing the worry in his eyes. "It is not that serious."

Pythagoras could not help disagreeing but seeing the look of worry and guilt on his friend's face wisely chose to hold his tongue for now.

The Queen shifted painfully and let her head drop back against the cave wall, trying to hide her exhaustion because of her desire to spend more time with her son. She turned her head to watch Jason with languid eyes. The young man was mirroring her position, leaning back against the wall tiredly. As she watched he raised his free hand and rubbed it across his forehead. Pasiphae frowned. She had been right, she decided. Jason did look tired – very tired – and more than a little pale.

"You are unwell my love?" she asked with some worry.

"I'm very tired," Jason admitted, "and I've got a stinking headache."

Pasiphae's frown deepened at his strange turn of phrase.

"Then you must rest," she proclaimed.

"I will when you do," Jason countered, his eyes darkening decisively.

"You are stubborn," Pasiphae said sharply.

"Yes," Jason admitted, looking at her sideways, "and I get it all from you."

The Queen huffed a surprised laugh, unable to prevent a faint groan from escaping when it pulled on her stomach.

"Are you always this insolent?" she asked, although her smile softened her words.

Jason considered it for a moment.

"Pretty much, yeah," he agreed with a grin, his eyes dancing with humour.

"Very well, I will rest," Pasiphae acquiesced.

She allowed the two young men to assist her to lie back down, settling her as comfortably as possible and pulling Pythagoras' cloak up to cover her warmly. Without being consciously aware of it her eyes began to drift closed. Jason watched her for a moment and then began the painful process of pushing himself to his feet, only to find his mother's hand closing firmly around his wrist and her dark eyes, hazy and on the verge of sleep, watching him.

"You will be here when I wake up," she instructed, although Jason couldn't fail to hear the note of genuine fear in her voice – as though she was afraid their conversation had been nothing more than a pleasant dream.

Jason swallowed.

"I'll be here," he promised. "I'm not going anywhere."

Pasiphae nodded and allowed her eyes to drift closed once more. Jason carefully and gently detached her hand from around his wrist and held it for a moment, stroking his thumb across the back of it. He swallowed hard again.

"Pasiphae," he said unsure whether she was still awake and could hear him, "for what it's worth… I'm sorry."

He stood and half stumbled around the fire, heading for the far side of the cavern. His re-emerging exhaustion, which he had managed to shove down inside during his conversation with his mother, was making him feel almost light headed and his head was killing him, pounding relentlessly. He felt rather than saw Pythagoras coming up alongside him and turned to smile wearily at his younger friend, draping an arm over the mathematician's shoulders in a friendly manner but leaning a little more heavily on Pythagoras than he really intended.

Pythagoras gave Jason a worried frown and adjusted his balance to accommodate more of his friend's weight.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, knowing that the answer was no but uncertain whether Jason would admit to it, despite his earlier belief that Jason would tell him the truth.

"I think I might need your help," Jason admitted as they moved over to where Hercules was waiting.

The burly wrestler looked up from where he was seated on the ground with a dark frown.

"Why?" he asked sharply, having heard Jason's soft admission to Pythagoras. "What's wrong?"

Jason didn't immediately answer. Instead he crossed to Hercules' side and slowly eased himself to the floor.

"Where is everyone?" He asked looking around.

"Outside," Hercules growled. "The Oracle decided she and Melas needed to fulfil their evening obligations to Poseidon and the King went with them to give thanks for Ariadne's return and to pray for _her_." He nodded across the fire towards Pasiphae. "He took Ariadne with him and the guards went along for his protection… which just leaves us here with _him_ ," he pointed to where Nisos stood on guard at the entrance to the cave, looking out towards the grove, "to guard the Queen… Now stop trying to avoid the question and tell me what's wrong."

Jason blinked.

"I'm not trying to avoid anything," he protested mildly.

"Really?" Hercules said with heavy sarcasm.

"You said you thought you needed my help," Pythagoras murmured, crouching down in front of Jason. "How are you injured?"

"Who said he was injured?" Hercules asked, looking between the two boys suspiciously.

"No-one," Pythagoras said softly looking at Jason, his blue eyes worried. "But you are holding yourself stiffly and moving somewhat carefully and gingerly. Plus you keep half turning away as though you are protecting your side and were clearly in some discomfort when you laughed. All that leads me to believe that you have in some way injured your side or chest."

Jason half smiled.

"I knew I wouldn't be able to get anything past you," he said equally softly. "Not that I really wanted to try to be honest." He sighed. "I got kicked in the side while we were fighting the Amphigeneians in the Temple the other day. It re-broke those ribs that I'd cracked falling down the steps from the city wall… and I think it might be worse this time; that they might be more badly broken. It certainly hurts a lot more than before."

Pythagoras nodded.

"I thought it might be something like that," he stated. "Have they been strapped at all?"

"No," Jason admitted. "I didn't like to tell the others. There was nothing that they could really do while we were out in the woods trying to dodge the Amphigeneians and I didn't want them to worry. Plus I wasn't entirely sure that I'd be able to re-lace this," he touched his breastplate gently, "if I took it off. I sort of hoped that it would help to keep my ribs stable though."

"Hmm," Pythagoras responded noncommittally. "I am assuming, therefore, that you have taken nothing to help with the pain either."

"No," Jason said. "I was hoping you might have something that you could whip up for me."

Pythagoras nodded again.

"I will prepare something," he said. "But I will need you to take your armour and tunic off while I do so, so that I can examine you properly."

Jason bit his lip.

"I'm not sure that I can," he said. "It's hurting to breathe let alone anything else. I don't think I can twist enough to undo the laces… and I don't think I'll be able to lift my arm up over my head to get my tunic off."

"That won't be a problem," Hercules rumbled, large fingers already moving to untie the laces at the side of his friend's breastplate. "What are friends for if not to help you?"

Pythagoras turned away to his bag, pulling out various supplies and bandages and muttering under his breath to himself as he worked out what he would need. Behind him Hercules stripped away his other friend's armour and tunic with remarkable gentleness, manoeuvring Jason closer to the fire as he did so to make sure that the young man did not get too cold.

By the time Pythagoras turned back around with a cup in one hand the burly wrestler's activities had been completed and their dark haired friend had been nudged near to the fire with a blanket wrapped around his bare shoulders to keep him warm. As Pythagoras approached Jason looked up with a slightly wan and definitely weary smile.

"Will that fix a headache too?" he asked looking at the cup the mathematician was carrying. "Because I have to admit that my head's killing me."

"It should certainly ease most of your discomfort," Pythagoras answered. "But I _would_ like to examine you before you take it."

Jason nodded and immediately looked as though he wished he hadn't, raising one hand to his forehead delicately.

Pythagoras winced sympathetically and knelt down in front of his younger friend, noting that their older friend was hovering protectively nearby.

Without being asked Jason let the blanket slip from around his shoulders. Pythagoras looked at the black and purple bruising tracking around his friend's side and winced sympathetically again. The whole thing looked impossibly tender and Pythagoras could only imagine how much pain Jason must have been in for the last four days with no real way of obtaining relief.

"I am sorry," he apologised. "This may be extremely unpleasant."

Steeling himself (as he always had to when he knew that something he was about to do would cause another person pain) the blonde mathematician began to probe his friend's side with long, gentle fingers. Unable to help himself, Jason whimpered quietly and tried to arch away, tears springing unbidden to his eyes despite his desperate attempts to fight them away. He felt himself being pulled back to rest against a broad chest as rough hands rubbed comfortingly up and down his upper arms, skimming more lightly over the scabbed over gash that was a remnant of their desperate fight in the streets of Atlantis (and was that really only four days ago?) when the three of them had stood at the barricades and helped in the (as it turned out) futile defence of the city.

"It's alright," Hercules rumbled in his ear. "The Queen's asleep and everyone else is outside… or looking outside… You don't have to be strong with us."

"You are right," Pythagoras said gently. "This is worse than last time and your ribs _are_ fully broken rather than cracked. I will wrap them and then you will take a painkilling tonic and try to rest." He hesitated for a moment. "Would I be right in thinking that you have not had much sleep over the past few days?"

Hercules snorted.

"That's fairly obvious," he grumbled. "From the moment he walked in here he's looked like we ought to be tucking him into bed for a nap."

Jason tried to shoot an irritated glance over his shoulder – a move which failed utterly when he found that he couldn't turn enough without pulling on his damaged side. He bit his lip to keep from groaning as the constant throb from his ribs, which had begun to quiet down now that Pythagoras had stopped prodding them, flared into a burning shriek once more.

"Here," Pythagoras said urgently, handing Jason the cup he had prepared. "Drink this… it should begin to dull the pain fairly quickly."

"Thanks," Jason muttered, taking the cup and downing the contents in one swift gulp, praying that the mathematician was right and that the contents might actually begin to provide him with some relief.

Pythagoras smiled gently.

"So," he said. " _Have_ you been sleeping?"

"No," Jason admitted.

"Because of the pain?"

Jason grimaced.

"Partially," he said. "I haven't been able to get comfortable lying down… but my insomnia's been pretty bad for the last few days too." He avoided telling his friends about the nightmares and the apparently prophetic dreams – although he could not have explained why.

Pythagoras frowned, eyes narrowing thoughtfully, even as his hands were busy doing complicated things with bandages.

"Tell me if this is too tight," he instructed, wrapping Jason's chest in the strips of cloth, hoping that the support the bandages provided would help to relieve some of the pain he knew his friend was in.

"It's fine," Jason answered, trying to take a deep breath to test how tight the bandaging was. His breath caught in his throat, however, and set off a coughing fit, making him double over on himself as agony lanced through him.

When the fit passed he tried to straighten up only to find his shoulders caught in Hercules' strong hands.

"Just stay nice and still until you've got your breath," the big man instructed.

Too tired to do anything other than what he was told, Jason half lay against his friend for a few long minutes, watching Pythagoras puttering about near the fire with heavy eyes. Eventually the young genius turned with a smile and came back over with a pair of cups in his hands. He nodded to Hercules, who eased Jason back up into a sitting position and slipped his tunic back into place before the young man knew what was happening and could even think of objecting.

"Better now?" Hercules asked.

Jason nodded dumbly. The painkilling tonic that Pythagoras had given him was kicking in now and making him ever more drowsy. Hercules smiled softly and busied himself with laying out blankets and cloaks for the night, pulling several out of the bag that Jason had carried (provided by Meriones) and using them to form a bed near the fire.

Pythagoras sat down next to Jason and handed him a cup, lacing his fingers around his own drinking vessel and taking a long sip. Jason stared at the cup in confusion for a moment before sipping experimentally at the contents. It was spicy but not too bad, he decided, and the warmth of the drink seemed to fill him comfortingly. He yawned deeply, not noticing when Pythagoras took the now empty cup from his nerveless fingers, blue eyes both thoughtful and deeply compassionate, or when Hercules slipped a strong arm around him and gently eased him to the ground to curl up among the blankets the big man had arranged, and covered him with his cloak. The throb from his side had muted to a dull ache, persistent but bearable and no match for the exhaustion that was claiming him. Jason let his eyes drift closed as, surrounded by the care and attention of his two friends he slept at last.

Hercules' eyes softened as he brushed a wayward curl out of his young friend's eyes. The he looked up at his other friend speculatively.

"That was… sudden," he remarked. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone fall asleep quite that quickly."

Although his tone remained mild, Pythagoras flushed guiltily.

"Yes… well," he answered.

Hercules raised an eyebrow.

"What was in that?" he nodded towards the empty cup that the blonde mathematician had taken from their dark haired friend.

"Just a warm drink to help Jason relax," Pythagoras responded defensively. Then he seemed to deflate slightly. "With a mild sedative in it," he added guiltily. "But I truly believe he needs sleep more than anything right now."

"You'll get no arguments from me," Hercules retorted. He glanced at Jason. "Will he be alright?"

Pythagoras sighed.

"Jason needs to rest," he said softly. "Ideally it should be in a nice soft bed where he could relax and be allowed to heal without worry… but I cannot see that happening anytime soon. All I can do is ensure that he has a night's sleep now and hope it will be enough. He had not fully recovered from the poisoning… was not as well as I would have liked when the city fell… and that cough worries me. With the damage to his ribs it is important that we do everything we can to stop it getting any worse."

Hercules nodded although worry tightened his jaw, concern narrowing his eyes.

"Right," he said. "Well that's your thing more than mine but you just let me know what you need me to do alright?"

"Of course," Pythagoras answered. "For now we just let him sleep. Hopefully Jason will feel much better with a good night's sleep behind him and then we can sort everything else out from there."

* * *

The hazy winter sun shone through the tree tops into the sacred grove, casting a weak and pale light over the altar. Minos frowned to himself. Could he have ever imagined a situation like this even in his worst nightmares? The city was lost, he and his family on the run from an enemy King and his beloved wife was badly injured. The only bright point in all of this mess had been the return of his daughter; the knowledge that the children were both safe.

Minos' frown deepened. He had intended to speak to Jason last night – to let the boy know just how pleased he was that his stepson was safely back with them too – but in the first rush of relief at seeing Ariadne all thoughts beyond her had gone from his head. By the time he had been willing to let his beloved daughter out of his arms again Jason had been deep in a conversation with his mother and the King had not wished to intrude given how worried he knew Pasiphae had been for her son, and by the time he had returned from giving thanks to the Gods for the reunification of his family the boy had been fast asleep with his larger friend sitting gloweringly on guard as though daring anyone to disturb Jason's rest.

Now it was late morning and the young man was still asleep. Surely he should be awake by now? Surely he couldn't have been _that_ tired? Although Ariadne _had_ mentioned that her stepbrother had seemed a little unwell, particularly towards the latter part of their journey, and had indicated her belief that he had not been sleeping. Perhaps all he needed was the chance to catch up on his sleep; if the lad really was a little unwell perhaps this was what he needed in order to fully recover.

Much as Minos wished to speak with Jason – had several important things which he felt needed to be said to the boy – he also did not wish to harm his stepson; had grown too fond of the lad already for that. With a sigh, still deep in thought, the King made his way over to the bomos and raised his hands in supplication, praying that Poseidon would help to protect his chosen city and people; praying that he might see a way out of this mess; praying that Atlantis might be delivered from the undeserving savage hands of Anaxandros.

Prayer had always made Minos feel better. In spite of the actions he had taken to seize the throne so many years before (a move that he still felt had been the right one to make) he had always believed deeply in the Gods and in the natural order of things. The Gods had always seemed to favour him as well and he genuinely believed that if he had not had their favour he would never have been able to take the throne in the first place. So why had they abandoned him now? What had he done to anger them? Was the fact that Anaxandros had managed to take Atlantis truly a sign of their displeasure? Or was it a test? Had the Gods decided to test his faith and his resilience in this manner?

If you had asked Minos that question two days ago while his wife had been lying between life and death and his daughter had been missing, potentially a prisoner of the enemy or worse, he would have said that the Gods were punishing him. Pasiphae (had she been aware enough of anything other than her injury and her son's absence) would undoubtedly have sought to bolster his waning confidence, would have told him that the Gods needed no reason for their cruelty, and would have encouraged him to formulate a plan to regain the city. Minos would have tried to believe her but would ultimately have been unable. Now though, with his daughter returned to him and his wife seemingly on the mend, her own fears allayed by the arrival of her son, the King could allow himself to be a little more optimistic. Yes, he decided, the situation was undoubtedly one straight out of nightmare but that which he held most dear had not been taken from him and he took strength from that; could begin to convince himself that this was a trial that the Gods had sent to test his courage.

More at peace now than he had been at any time in the previous four days Minos finished his obligations and allowed his arms to drop back to his sides. Turning back to face the grove he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to see what it was. Truth be told he was not unduly concerned that it might be an enemy because he knew that Dion was ensuring that his men stood watch over the grove and cave at all times; trying to see to the safety of the royal family even now. Minos half smiled. If there was one thing that could be relied on in this life it was Dion's complete and steadfast loyalty; his utter devotion to duty. There was a reason why the burly soldier had been made a general in spite of the objections of some of the more conservative of Minos' advisors (who felt that such an exalted rank should be awarded to someone of more noble birth than Dion); and a reason why Minos had every intention of naming him as Captain of the Palace Guard if they ever managed to return to Atlantis.

Still it did not hurt to be prudent and to be on the lookout for any threats himself. Minos frowned again. There was a figure moving at the edge of the treeline. He glanced across to the nearest guard and noticed that the man had not moved; seemed singularly unconcerned by the presence of another person. Someone from within their group then; someone from within the cave. Minos peered more closely at the figure and caught a glimpse of dark curls. Jason was finally awake then. That was good. It at least meant that the King could have the discussion he had been planning with his stepson.

He turned fully and began to make his way over to the young man, waving back the guard who moved to follow them. The soldier would have a better view of any approaching threats from where he was and Minos hardly thought he would be in any danger from his wife's son, particularly, he noted with a frown, since the lad didn't seem to be armed. Plus he wanted a little privacy to talk to Jason and the presence of a guard could only hinder their conversation.

Jason, Minos noted, gave every impression of having just woken up. His wild curls were still awry and he had not even bothered to belt his tunic much less put his breastplate on. He looked younger like this, the King couldn't help but notice with a smile. Then he frowned again. The lad was moving more slowly than usual and even at this distance the King could not miss the wince as he sat down, leaning back against the trunk of a tree. Ariadne had suggested that Jason was less than fully well last night; had expressed concern about him. Minos hadn't really registered what she had been saying at the time, however; had been so caught up with the joy of seeing his beloved daughter safe and well that he had neglected to check on the wellbeing of his stepson. Pasiphae would not be pleased if the lad had been harmed.

On quiet feet he slid over to join the boy fully expecting that Jason would hear or see him coming and react fairly quickly. It was a surprise when the young man gave no indication of being aware of his presence and stayed sitting, apparently lost in thought, dark eyes distant. Minos cleared his throat pointedly.

"Do you mind if I join you?" he asked.

Jason looked up, startled. He had slept well – remarkably well, although he had a sneaking suspicion that Pythagoras had something to do with that; that the mathematician had slipped something into his drink to help him sleep. He wondered if that was something he should be angry about. He wasn't; wasn't angry at all. In fact all he really felt right now was grateful for his friend's care. He was still hurting – hurting whenever he moved, whenever he breathed – but at least he didn't feel like he was about to collapse at any moment anymore and the pounding headache that had assaulted him yesterday had disappeared for the time being.

Actually he had woken up a short time ago feeling distinctly refreshed – incredibly sore but definitely refreshed. Hercules, Pythagoras had informed him, was out hunting, the addition of four extra mouths to the group straining already tight supplies to the extreme. On any normal day Jason would have asked where the big man had been heading so that he could follow on and join up with his older friend and share his self-imposed task (although on any normal day he wouldn't have slept so late and would have been with the burly wrestler anyway) but right at the moment he thought he might actually be more of a hindrance than a help. Even thinking about the act of drawing a bow made his ribs twinge, the muscles in his chest aching in sympathy, and he had the suspicion that walking for any great distance (in spite of the distances he had travelled over the last few days to get here in the first place) would most likely leave him breathless, in pain and needing help to get back. Jason shuddered at the thought of being that much of a burden.

Still he had felt the need to get some fresh air; his guilt at the thought of what had happened to his mother building up into a tight ball that seemed to sit in the pit of his stomach and made him restless, unable to stay in the cave and look at her still form. It had taken some serious persuading for Pythagoras to let him leave, and Jason was still only too aware that if he was out here for too long the mathematician was likely to come looking for him, but after many promises to stay within the sight of the cave entrance, not try to move around too much (although if Jason were being honest he didn't actually think he could move around all that much if he tried – really the only comfortable position right now involved sitting completely still) and only spend a short time outside before coming back in to rest he had been allowed to come in search of the solitude he desired. Just before he had slipped out there had been a moment when he had thought that Pythagoras might actually try to join him, but then the mathematician's attention had been demanded by the Oracle who had wanted him to show her Pasiphae's injury so that she could try to help with its healing and Jason had slipped away to brood in peace.

So it was that the King's voice had intruded into the young man's increasingly dark thoughts. Jason resisted the urge to sigh, his good manners overriding his annoyance at the unexpected disturbance.

"Of course, My Lord," he murmured, ducking his head slightly. With what had happened to the Queen, the King was really the last person he wanted to talk to; dreaded the inevitable blame he felt must naturally come from the man even as his own feelings of guilt demanded censure.

Minos sat down without further invitation and looked thoughtfully across the grove.

"It is peaceful here," he remarked.

"Yes," Jason responded, still half lost in his own regrets.

Minos sighed mentally as an awkward silence spread between them. He had begun to hope that they were beyond this; that the boy was at least comfortable enough with him to hold a conversation. He cleared his throat again.

"I intended to speak with you last night," he said, "but by the time I returned from my prayers you had already retired for the night and your friends made it clear that they did not wish you to be disturbed."

Jason flushed.

"I'm sorry," he apologised.

"You clearly needed your rest." Minos waved away the apology. "It was of no matter." He shot the young man a shrewd look. "You are feeling better this morning?" he asked. "Ariadne told me that she believed you were less than well."

"I'm fine," Jason protested.

"Indeed," the King answered, his tone faintly disbelieving. "Perhaps I should remind you, however, that I did not become a father yesterday and most certainly was not born yesterday." He turned to give his stepson a hard look. "Please do not take me for a fool. I have eyes and can tell you are not completely at ease; are not completely well."

Jason flashed a glance that was both startled and faintly embarrassed at the King.

"Last night I _was_ a little tired, My Lord," he admitted respectfully, "and I wasn't feeling completely well. My friends looked after me and I'm feeling much better now."

"Very well," Minos answered. "I will trust you to inform me is the situation changes."

Jason nodded. Something in his eyes alerted Minos, however, and drew a deep frown from the King.

"I will have your word on it," he said firmly.

Jason swallowed hard.

"Yes Your Majesty," he said. He hesitated for a moment. "I picked up an injury a few days ago. It isn't particularly serious but it has been bothering me."

Minos raised a querulous eyebrow. Pasiphae would definitely be unhappy when she heard this.

"What injury?" he demanded.

"I reinjured the ribs that I damaged in an accident a couple of weeks ago," his younger companion admitted. "It's more painful than serious."

"Yes." the King accepted his stepson's answer. "Your mother would still not have been happy when she was informed, however."

Jason's stiffened, his look growing slightly pained.

"I didn't actually tell her," he confessed.

"Why not? Your mother will not take it lightly when she learns that this has been kept from her. Prudence would dictate that she be told as soon as possible."

Jason sighed.

"I _was_ going to tell her this morning," he said. "It's just that I wanted the chance to get fixed up a bit first. She's not well and I didn't want her to worry."

"If you wished to save her from worry you should not have disobeyed my orders and left the Temple on the night of the Amphigeneian attack," Minos stated, turning to face the young man with an expression as hard as stone.

Outwardly Jason fought to keep his expression as neutral as possible while inside he felt his stomach drop. _Here we go_ , he thought, _here comes the moment when he claps me in chains or banishes me. When he decides I'm too much trouble and sends me away. After all I'm the reason that Pasiphae was hurt; it's my fault – it's all my fault._ It never even occurred to him that Minos didn't actually have the power _to_ order his imprisonment or banishment at the moment and certainly never occurred to him that the man might react as a father and _not_ as a King.

For his part Minos watched the badly concealed emotions flicker across his stepson's face with some confusion. There was fear there, guilt and sorrow, finally settling into resignation. He frowned deeply, wondering what was going on in the boy's head.

"I shouldn't have left without an explanation," Jason murmured numbly. "I should have stopped and thought. Should have… told someone what had happened."

"Yes you should," the King replied. "I hope that I am not such an unreasonable man that I cannot be approached by my own stepson. I am aware that things had happened which had upset you… I am aware of the child's death and that you undoubtedly believed that you were doing the right thing by leaving the Temple but you had been given a direct order and I expect my orders to be obeyed."

Jason swallowed.

"Your Majesty," he began, "I know I shouldn't ask for anything under the circumstances but would you let me say goodbye before I leave?"

Minos' frown deepened. What on earth was Jason talking about? The utter desolation in the boy's eyes horrified him even as his words confused him.

"What do you mean?" he demanded sharply.

Jason looked down at his hands. He would not plead on his own behalf but if he could he would stop any anger and blame that Minos felt falling on his friends.

"I know I disobeyed your orders and that to disobey the orders of the King could be taken as treason," he answered quickly. "I know I must be punished and I'm ready to accept whatever you think is necessary… but my friends had nothing to do with it My Lord. Please… don't punish them for my mistakes. The only thing that they are guilty of is caring about me. Whatever punishment you decide on… just let me say goodbye to them."

Minos stared at his young companion with growing horror. Was this truly what the boy expected to happen? That he would be sent away for something that, while it had been disobedient and needed correction, was hardly more than a minor misdemeanour? It was certainly nowhere near the major transgression that Jason seemed to feel that it was and would hardly result in such a disproportionate response.

"I am the King," he acknowledged, "but I am also a father… and a stepfather… and it was in that capacity that I ordered you to stay in the Temple not in my role as ruler of the city. I will and do expect obedience from my children but I do not expect pure blind obedience. If a situation changes and you feel it is important to go against my orders then I would expect you to speak with me about it. I cannot promise that I will change my mind but I can promise that I will always listen. Your path through life must be of your own choosing but know now that you are a member of my family and will always be treated as such for however long you desire it. I would never – could never – dream of seeing you banished for such a minor incident… and even if I did I value my life too much to do such a thing. Your mother would undoubtedly break every bone in my body if I were to treat you that way."

He looked at Jason again, noting the blank, expressionless mask that the young man had hidden himself behind and taking it for the defensive tactic that it was – a defensive wall to protect the boy's heart.

"That being said," Minos continued, "I do wonder at the life you have led that you could believe such a minor thing would result in your banishment and permanent separation from your family and friends; that you could be so accepting of what you viewed to be your own fate."

"Well you did once sentence my friends and I to the bull court," Jason blurted, unable to contain himself.

"Yes," Minos agreed. "After you had violently struck a member of the royal household and raised your voice to me in my own throne room." He raised a hand to forestall the argument he saw rising in his stepson's hazel eyes. "I am aware now that there was a reason for your actions against Heptarian; that you did not act without provocation; that you did not know who he was at the time…"

"I'd have done the same even if I had known," Jason muttered under his breath.

Minos allowed a half smile to grace his stern features.

"Indeed," he answered. "I am also aware that your apparent insolence is at least in part caused by a neglected upbringing; that you simply do not know any better; that you have yet to learn respect for your elders and betters… but that is something that you can and will be taught."

Jason stayed silent no matter how much he might inwardly disagree with Minos' interpretation of him.

"All of this, however," the King continued, "is distracting from what I wanted to say; what I wanted to speak with you about." He paused for a second and then went on. "I wish to make it clear to you what the consequences of your hasty departure from the Temple were the other night."

"Consequences?" Jason asked.

Minos sighed.

"You were too young to remember your life here in Atlantis before your father stole you from your mother's care," he said softly. "But I remember only too well. I was a courtier when I first met you; a member of the nobility but not yet the King. I had grown to know and respect your mother and all the court knew how much she loved you. You were the centre of her world and to lose you so abruptly nearly destroyed her. She was inconsolable in her grief. Eventually she buried it – as she buried her memories of you – deep within her heart. To… find you again after so many years is nothing short of miraculous in her eyes. To have a second chance to build a future with you as part of her family is nothing short of her deepest desire. When you left the other night… when you went out into the streets in the middle of a siege and stayed there throughout the attack… she was angry, but it was an anger born of terror. Pasiphae is adept at hiding her feelings, even from those closest to her, but I would have had to be blind not to see her fear. She was haunted by the fear of you lying injured in the streets beyond her reach… beyond her ability to help you… or worse, that you would be taken from her again. Your loss would break her heart and I _will not_ see that happen."

"I'm sorry," Jason murmured, unable to meet his stepfather's eyes.

"It is not I that you must apologise to," Minos answered firmly. He reached out and tucked two fingers under his stepson's chin, raising the young man's face until Jason was forced to look at him. "Know this… I will not allow anyone to hurt your mother in this way again… not even you. To risk your life in such an impetuous manner and such an unnecessary way was unacceptable and it _will not_ happen again. Once this conversation is over we will say no more on it – although I believe that an apology to your mother will not go unappreciated and that she may have words of her own on the subject." He saw Jason wince at the thought and tried hard to avoid showing the little flicker of amusement that flashed through him; Jason was already learning the wisdom of not upsetting his mother it seemed. "Perhaps you should be grateful that we are no longer in the city," he suggested. "I believe that your mother had plans to have a guard stationed on the door to your room as soon as we returned to the Palace just to make sure you did not leave so hastily again."

Silence fell between the two men, stretching out heavily. Minos frowned again, wondering (not for the first time) what was going on in his stepson's head. The young man was lost in thought once more but he did not look happy. On the contrary, he appeared deeply troubled by something. The King sighed. Truthfully he didn't believe that he had been too harsh on the lad (certainly not as harsh as his mother would have been if she were well) but he had needed Jason to understand that his actions _did_ have consequences for those around him – those who cared about him – and to emphasise the fact that risking his life in such an unnecessary manner was something that could not be tolerated; that he needed to _think_ before diving headlong into things and not allow his emotions to rule him. Minos mentally sighed again. Pasiphae had always accused him of being too soft on his own children and would undoubtedly think that the same thing was holding true here but he could not walk away and leave the boy miserable. Without even stopping to consider the fact that little more than a week ago he would have found this act incredibly awkward the King reached out and placed a warm hand on Jason's shoulder, squeezing lightly but comfortingly. He had always provided comfort for his own children after a reprimand to let them know that they were truly forgiven and saw no need to act any differently with his wife's son.

"There," he said. "It is over and we will say no more about it."

Jason nodded dumbly. His guilt at his mother's predicament had increased massively as Minos' words had hit him, letting him know just how much he had upset and worried the woman. He had brought her nothing but worry; nothing but sorrow. If not for him she would not be harmed; if not for him she would be well enough for them to move to a safer, more comfortable location. He picked at a loose thread at the hem of his tunic, unconsciously biting his lip. Really it would have been better for them all if Pasiphae _had_ washed her hands of him (no matter how much it might hurt to think of that eventuality); it still would be better to be honest. He brought nothing but trouble to anyone who knew him; was the reason that his two best friends in the world were living in a cave right now rather than being safely at home where they belonged. Jason was under no illusions about that fact. _He_ was the reason they had been at the Palace in the first place and _he_ was the reason they had been at the Temple. They would never have been there if it hadn't been for him and his complicated heritage and parentage.

"I was pleased to see you return to us last night," Minos remarked quietly. "I did not say it at the time – although perhaps I should have – because seeing Ariadne pushed all other thoughts from my head. But I would not want you to think that you were any less welcome."

"Why?" Jason asked distantly, his mind still lost in his own dark thoughts and largely unaware of what he was saying. "Why would you be pleased to see me?"

Minos' brows drew together in a dark frown.

"What do you mean?" he demanded. "Why should I not be pleased to see my stepson returning safely from an uncertain situation?"

"Because I'm nothing but trouble," Jason answered. "I cause trouble wherever I go. I don't mean to – it just seems to happen… and this time it nearly got your wife killed. It was my fault. It was all my fault. If I'd been a bit more observant or moved a bit more quickly my mother would never have been hurt."

"And you think I should blame you for this?" Minos sounded genuinely confused.

Jason nodded silently.

"I think you are doing a good enough job of blaming yourself for both of us," the King remarked decisively. "Your friend warned us that it was in your nature to feel guilty for events that were often beyond your control but I did not think to see that extending this far." He looked long and hard at his young companion. "Listen to me," he said gently but firmly, "I cannot blame you for something that was so far out of your control. You did not make that snake Anaxandros invade or lay siege to the city and you did not fire the arrow that hit your mother. Nor did you force her to step between you and the archer. That was _her_ choice just as the decision to fire the arrow was the archer's and the decision to invade in the first place was Anaxandros'. I have known your mother – been married to your mother – for a great many years and I can tell you now that trying to stop Pasiphae from acting once she has set her mind on something is an exercise in futility. You could no more have prevented what happened than I could or any one of us that was in that Temple for that matter. The only person who is truly to blame for the situation we find ourselves in is Anaxandros." He hesitated for a moment before ploughing on. "I watched you fight in the Temple," he admitted. "I saw the passion with which you defended the city and those you care for. If we are to defeat Anaxandros… if we are to drive the Amphigeneians back from our homes and out of our streets… if we are to retake the city then I will need every help I can get. I do not yet know how this might be accomplished but I will have need of all your strength and all your fire in the days to come… and you will not be able to help while you are feeling like this."

Minos sat back and watched Jason for a moment; watched his words sinking in. He could pinpoint the exact moment when the determination began to spark in the lad's dark eyes, settling into the firm line of the jaw and straightening his shoulders. Soon, he promised himself, just as soon as they were safe and settled he would ensure that the young man was properly reassured about his place in their family and their affections. The more he grew to know his stepson the more he was coming to believe that the lad needed a mixture of discipline, guidance and love. This conversation had only served to strengthen that belief. It was becoming increasingly clear that Jason's large friend Hercules had been right in his assessment of the young man's upbringing in that first conversation after they had all become aware of who the boy's parents were: he clearly had little experience of life within a family or of the warmth and love that he should by rights expect to receive; that he expected rejection rather than affection.

As a father it made Minos' blood boil to think that any child had grown up that lonely and neglected let alone his wife's son. For now though he would have to set it all to one side. If they were to even attempt to get themselves out of their current predicament, to escape the clutches of Anaxandros and to have a hope of regaining what they had lost he would need to focus his mind on more immediate problems – of which the health of various members of their current group loomed large. Pasiphae's injury was a definite worry that occupied a large portion of Minos' mind, especially now that he knew that Ariadne was safe and well. Knowing now that Jason was also not in full health (albeit in a much better state than his mother) was concerning. The King looked speculatively at his stepson for a moment.

Jason, on the other hand, looked up towards the well concealed entrance to the cave. His eyes narrowed slightly and he raised one hand in greeting. Minos followed his gaze to see that Pythagoras was stood in the entrance watching them, his expression unreadable at this distance.

"He's looking for me My Lord," Jason explained with a faint grimace. "I promised I wouldn't be out here for too long… Pythagoras seems to think that I need to eat and rest… or something."

Minos allowed a faint smile to touch his face.

"Given that the skill displayed by your young friend in the healing arts is probably the only reason that your mother has survived her injury I think it would be prudent to listen to him," he said.

"Probably," Jason acknowledged with a slight chuckle, "but don't tell him I said that – I'll never be allowed to forget it." He looked at Pythagoras again. "He and Hercules… they can be a bit over protective at times… tend to worry a bit much."

"It is only because they care," Minos pointed out.

"I know," Jason acknowledged, "and I wouldn't want to change either one of them for the world. I don't really like either of them worrying about me."

"Then perhaps we should return to the cave in order to ease your friend's mind," Minos said softly pushing himself to his feet and offering his hand to his younger companion to help him up.

Jason stared at the outstretched hand for a moment, thoroughly startled. It seemed completely incongruous somehow that the King of Atlantis was offering him a hand up. He took it though and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, freezing as wave after wave of pain lanced through his injured side, robbing him of thought or sense. This was not a good moment for Pythagoras' painkilling concoction to wear off, he decided as his senses returned. He desperately wanted to show the King that he was fine, that he was ready for anything that might be thrown at them, and this was most definitely not the way to do it.

As the sudden scream of his broken ribs subsided into the steady rhythmic thumping ache that had plagued him for days, Jason risked a smile at Minos, noting the appraising way the King was looking at him – eyes narrowed thoughtfully – with a faint sigh. Pythagoras, having spotted him faltering from his vantage point in the entrance to the cave, was hurrying across the grove, trying to close the distance between them.

"Sorry," Jason muttered, embarrassed, "I moved a bit quick."

"Next time you might want to try holding a rolled blanket or cloak against your side as you get up," Minos advised. "It might make standing up a little more comfortable." He took in his stepson's surprised look with a faint smile. "I have some personal experience of this type of injury," he added.

Jason couldn't help but smile.

"Thank you Your Majesty," he answered. "I'll try that."

He stepped out across the clearing to intercept Pythagoras, feeling Minos' eyes on his back.

"Are you alright?" Pythagoras asked as he drew level.

Jason draped a friendly arm around the blonde's shoulders.

"I will be alright," Jason answered.

"You should be resting," Pythagoras fretted.

"Fair enough," Jason responded. His eyes flickered thoughtfully as he looked across the grove before turning once more to look at his stepfather. "I might have had an idea about what to do next," he said.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N I'm back! Thank you all for being _so_ patient waiting for the arrival of this chapter and for all the lovely reviews. I really hope that after having made you wait for so long this chapter is alright.

Please let me know if it is...

* * *

The fire crackled cheerfully as Pythagoras crouched near it, mixing some crushed herbs into a paste, his medical paraphernalia laid out before him. From the corner of his eye he could see his friend sitting against the wall of the cavern, so still that you could almost believe that he was a statue hewn from the rock itself rather than a living, breathing young man. But then, the blonde reflected, sitting absolutely still was probably the only position that would allow Jason some measure of comfort right now; the constant throbbing pain he would be feeling just through breathing was likely to be made much worse by moving around. Really what Pythagoras would like to do – what all his experience was telling him was necessary – was to bundle his friend up in a nice soft bed propped up against plump pillows (because sitting up was probably going to be more comfortable than lying down after all). Unfortunately that wasn't a possibility at the moment. The young mathematician sighed. The hard, unyielding floor of a cave was hardly going to be conducive to Jason's comfort or recovery.

With long, dextrous fingers Pythagoras finished mixing the salve he was working on and carefully transferred most of it into a small jar, placing a lid onto it and sealing the top with melted wax to allow it to be carried without spilling when they inevitably had to move on from the cave. The remaining portion he placed into a bowl and covered lightly with a cloth. Jason would undoubtedly refer to it as "gloop" and much as hearing his remedies referred to in that way annoyed Pythagoras he would privately have to admit that this particular salve did look exceptionally gloopy. Still if it helped to make Jason less sore – helped to heal the truly spectacular bruising around his chest and side – Pythagoras would take a bit of gloopiness any day. Not that he was planning on using it for a day or so anyway – somehow he didn't think Jason would want to be touched at present since last night's examination had clearly caused him so much pain.

He glanced up as his friend as he moved on to mixing his next tonic; a painkilling concoction that would be useful for more than one of their party. What was going through Jason's head right now? After announcing that he thought he could see a way out of their current predicament he had remained frustratingly quiet, suggesting that it would be better to wait until Hercules returned from hunting and Dion from wherever he was patrolling so that he only had to talk things through once rather than repeating himself for a new audience. Pythagoras supposed he could see Jason's point. Since then he had sat quietly, keeping as still as he could. The blonde mathematician would have been happier if he had eaten something but Pythagoras suspected that the ache from his side was becoming unbearable enough to drive his appetite away, especially since the painkilling tonic from last night would have worn off by now.

Tonic finished and safely decanted into a suitable container, stopper firmly in place, Pythagoras paused to wipe his hands on a small cloth. Perhaps something to soothe a cough might be in order too? He considered the idea for a moment before reluctantly deciding that he really didn't have the right ingredients to put together a suitable mixture. Ideally he would like to have some flaxseed, boiled down to a mush, mixed with honey and then strained through a cloth to form a thick, gooey but effective cough remedy. He still had a little comb of honey tucked away in a jar at the bottom of his bag but no flaxseed and no way of getting any out here. Pythagoras thought of his well-stocked shelves at home with more than a little regret. Experience of living with Hercules and in latter days Jason had taught him the importance of keeping a good supply of medicinal items in stock. He didn't even have any lemon to mix with the honey to form a soothing drink. The young blonde sighed. While he liked to be prepared for any eventuality this was something he had not foreseen and he was only grateful that he had had the foresight to grab a few of his more useful herbs from home back when they had first gone to stay at the Palace in spite of Hercules' ridicule.

A soft sound caught his ears as he worked and he looked up sharply with concern. The Queen was sleeping peacefully on the far side of the fire, worn out by the Oracle's ministrations earlier that morning but stronger than she had been as a result. Pythagoras looked back across at Jason, frowned and hurried to his friend's side. The dark haired young man seemed to be fighting to suppress wave after wave of coughing, arms wrapped protectively about himself and head bowed. Between coughs he was whimpering quietly to himself, but was clearly unaware that he was doing it. Even as he hurried across the cave, Pythagoras could see Ariadne drawing close as well, her concern written on her face, and waved her back. He did not doubt the Princess' good intentions and in no way wished to give offence but he knew Jason only too well and knew just how badly his friend would want to keep how he was feeling to himself; how he would not want anyone to see what he viewed as his own weakness. Pythagoras sighed. Sometimes Jason's stoicism was very wearing particularly when it got in the way of the young man receiving the comfort that he needed.

Ariadne looked at Pythagoras with an imperiously raised eyebrow and carried on moving forwards, channelling all the authority of her father into her look. Pythagoras gulped a little. The beautiful Princess was so gentle under normal circumstances that it was easy to forget just whose daughter she was, but right in this moment it was plain. The look she directed at the mathematician clearly told him that she was not going to take no for an answer right now; she was worried about Jason and plainly intended to check on his wellbeing personally no matter what anyone else thought.

Pythagoras sighed silently. No matter how good Ariadne's intentions were her interference at this point was only likely to cause complications, but it seemed that she was not going to be put off. Perhaps though she might be diverted – at least until Jason had regained a measure of control over himself; could breathe properly again and was not trying to curl himself into an agonised ball. Even as he moved forwards, Pythagoras looked down at his own empty hands with a frown. In his haste to get to his friend he had forgotten to pick up the tonic that should ease Jason's suffering. It was stupid of him; thoughtless. Yet it might work in his favour right now. He turned to the Princess with a reassuring smile.

"Would you fetch the stoppered bottle from near the fire please My Lady?" he asked. Then he turned appraising eyes on Jason, narrowing them thoughtfully. "And a cup of water if you would be so kind," he added.

Ariadne also glanced at Jason and nodded tightly, moving to do as the young genius asked. Much as she wanted to know what was wrong with Jason, much as she wanted to provide what help or comfort she could, she knew that Pythagoras, with his healing knowledge, was in a far better position to aid his friend.

Pythagoras smiled as reassuringly as he could at the girl as she scrambled to do as he asked. Then he turned back to Jason. Sitting himself down alongside Jason he wrapped one thin arm around his friend's shoulders, carefully rubbing up and down the taut back, taking care not to get anywhere near Jason's left side where his ribs were damaged. There was little else that he could do until the coughing fit passed, unless… Casting about with his other hand Pythagoras grabbed a blanket from the ground. Letting Jason go for a moment, the mathematician rolled it tightly and then turned back to his friend with determination.

"Here," he said with certainty. "Press this into your side. It should help to support your ribs as you cough and stop them hurting so badly."

He was rewarded by seeing the dark head bob once as Jason acknowledged what he was saying. Taking this as all the permission he needed Pythagoras inserted the rolled blanket into the curl of his friend's body and pressed it in hard. He felt as well as heard Jason whimper and winced in sympathy. It worried the young genius just how much and how often his friend was coughing to be honest. He had known that since being poisoned Jason had been experiencing some tightness in his chest, had found himself growing breathless on exertion or in cold air and had been plagued by a sharp, hacking cough whenever the temperature dropped, but he hadn't realise that it was this bad. If he had he would have made sure that his friend had remained tucked up indoors – although under the present circumstances with the Amphigeneians taking the city he supposed that that might not have been for the best.

As Ariadne scrambled back with both the bottle Pythagoras had prepared and a cup of water, slopping perilously close to the rim of the vessel and splashing over her hand, the coughs that were bubbling up from Jason's chest finally subsided and he began to uncurl slightly, head still dropped forwards as he struggled to catch his breath. Pythagoras sat back down alongside him and slipped an arm back around his shoulders, feeling Jason wilt against him, temporarily drained of all energy. With a frown the mathematician realised that Pasiphae had woken up on the far side of the fire and had tried to struggle to sit up to see what exactly was wrong with her son, only to find herself gently restrained by her husband who was talking to her earnestly in a tone too low to be caught by outside ears.

"Sorry," he heard Jason murmur breathlessly, still sagging against his side. "That one caught me a bit unawares. I'm fine now."

"Are you?" Ariadne asked sharply. "Are you really fine? Because it seems to me that there has been something wrong for days. Something you have been keeping from me… and it ends now. I want to know what's wrong."

Jason tried to take a deep breath to answer her but broke off with a wince, panting breathlessly through a spike of pain and wilting even further into Pythagoras. It would be better, he decided, if he could just persuade the fire that seemed to be burning in his side to quiet down and be quenched. The only thing that seemed to be working to muffle the pain at the moment was absolute stillness and until he achieved that he had a suspicion that he wouldn't be able to appease the drumbeat in his ribcage. It was distinctly irritating to have company before he had control; to not have had the chance to put his stoic face back into place. As things were there seemed no way that he could hide his aches and pains from anyone and he felt frustratingly unwell, stomach rolling and chest tightening from a combination of the pain and the sheer effort it was taking to just breathe.

With a conscious effort the brunette pushed himself upright from his blonde friend, gritting his teeth against the resultant flare in his ribs, placing one hand lightly against his side to try to still the thrum of pain. For a moment he laid his head back against the rock wall of the cave, waiting until the absolute stillness that he was trying so hard to achieve dulled the spike of hot pain down to a muted but constant ache. It was weird how much worse he felt now than when they had been travelling to Dodona – although he supposed that adrenaline had a lot to do with that; that as soon as he had been able to stop, to relax and let someone else take responsibility for the protection of the group, the distraction of duty had gone and allowed his mind and body to fully concentrate on the fact that he was hurt.

Another cough threatened to bubble up from his chest but he supressed it as best he could, grimacing painfully. Pythagoras took the cup of water from Ariadne and held it out to him, his other hand resting comfortingly on Jason's shoulder, fingers tracing a soothing pattern on the back of his friend's shoulder blade.

"Take small sips," he advised. "It should help to soothe your throat."

Jason nodded and smiled weakly, taking the cup and sipping at it. Once it was empty he handed it back to Pythagoras with a soft expression of gratitude and turned back to Ariadne, knowing that the girl would expect an explanation.

"I will be fine," he asserted. "I damaged a couple of ribs the other day that's all."

Ariadne frowned at the breathless quality to his voice.

"When?" she demanded. "And how?"

"I cracked them a few weeks ago," Jason admitted. "I reinjured them in the fight at the Temple."

Ariadne huffed a disbelieving and frustrated breath.

"So you have travelled all the way from Atlantis to Dodona and carried on for _four days_ without treatment? We travelled as a group of four and you never said a word to any of us! Did you never stop to consider what might have happened if you had collapsed? What would we have done then?"

"There didn't seem much point in worrying anyone," Jason answered. "There was nothing that you could have done while we were camping out in the forest. With the Amphigeneians patrolling the woods we couldn't afford to stop for me."

"We would have found some way of helping you," Ariadne retorted. "You should have told us so that if you had become ill we would have been prepared." She hovered a hand near to his shoulder, aware that her father was watching and would not approve of public displays of affection. "I could not bear to lose you… and I do not think Pasiphae could stand it either."

Jason shot a guilty glance at his mother.

Pythagoras leant in closely

"I think she has realised that something is wrong," he murmured.

Jason swore quietly.

"Did you really think that _Pasiphae_ wouldn't notice?" Ariadne asked incredulously. "She has the sharpest eyes I have ever seen."

"I was going to tell her," Jason said. "I just wanted to feel a bit better first… I didn't want her to worry."

"Speaking of feeling better," Pythagoras said, measuring some fluid out of the bottle into the cup, swirling it around and handing it to his friend, "this should ease your discomfort."

Jason nodded and took the cup gratefully. Right at this moment in time he couldn't care less what the contents tasted like as long as they worked the way that Pythagoras believed they would. He turned back to Ariadne.

"Do you think we could skip the lecture for now?" he asked a little plaintively. "I've already heard one from your father this morning."

"I do not intend to lecture," Ariadne answered. "I'm worried about you."

"You don't need to be," Jason argued.

"Well someone has to be," Ariadne retorted with some asperity, "since _you_ are clearly unwilling to worry about your own health and wellbeing… and I do not think Pasiphae would take too kindly to you neglecting your wellbeing for anything or anyone."

Pythagoras watched them both for a moment, trying hard not to roll his eyes at Jason's inevitable attempt at stoicism or show amusement at the fact that the Princess was in her own way equally as stubborn as his strong willed friend.

Feeling himself being watched Jason turned his head to face his friend.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"It is nothing," Pythagoras responded, trying to hide his merriment. "It was merely a passing thought that amused me." Then his expression became serious and vaguely apologetic once more. "I am only sorry that there is not more that I can do to make things easier," he said regretfully. "The cold hard floor of a cave is hardly conducive to recovery from any sort of injury and that holds as true for broken bones as it does for an arrow wound to the stomach."

Jason waved away his words with a faint sigh.

"It isn't your fault," he said softly. "It isn't anyone's fault. Yes I've broken a few ribs but they're painful more than serious and I think I'll probably live. As for staying in this cave I don't think we'll be able to remain here for that much longer to be honest. Anaxandros is bound to start sending out patrols as soon as he's regrouped a bit – and probably with increasing strength. After all he must know by now that the King escaped the city and it can't be long until he works out that you have too," he turned to look at Ariadne. "If he hasn't already worked it out. You're heir to the throne so he really can't afford to let either you or your father escape… and once he knows that the Queen is still alive that will only make him more determined to dispose of you all. It's really only a matter of time before someone stumbles on this cave… it's simply too close to Atlantis. Anaxandros will hunt the King like an animal… hunt _you_ like an animal… and he will not give up until you are captured or dead. I'll die before I see that happen but for safety's sake we cannot stay here for long."

"Jason he will hunt you too," Pythagoras pointed out gently but with certainty.

"Anaxandros?" Jason sounded slightly startled at the suggestion. "Why? I hardly think he'd bother with the likes of me."

"You are the son of the former King of Atlantis," Ariadne pointed out. "There are many even within the city who would say that you had more right to the throne than me… _or_ my father; who would say that you are the true heir to the throne. Anaxandros will no more be able to risk you escaping than he will my father or I… and he has met you and knows what you look like. He must know that it was you that wounded him in the Temple and I believe he will want his revenge."

"I'm _not_ heir to _anything_ ," Jason answered sharply. "You are Poseidon's Servant. A Goddess on Earth. Heir to the throne… and I'm just… well… me. Just Jason. Nothing special." He sighed. "The point is though that we are going to have to move on." He looked at Pythagoras. "How soon will it be before we can move the Queen safely?"

"You are talking about moving a woman with a serious injury," Pythagoras protested. "The situation with any injury of that nature is fluid. Yes, at present it does appear that Her Majesty is recovering, and recovering far more rapidly than I would have believed possible given the nature of the wound, but it is a delicate balance and it would not take a great deal for that balance to be upset. Any premature actions could have dire consequences."

"I know," Jason admitted, "and I would not wish to endanger her health… but I can see no other way. Tell me honestly Pythagoras how well will she recover if we remain here in this cave?"

Pythagoras sighed.

"You are right that her recovery will be hindered," he murmured slowly. "She needs to be resting in a nice soft bed, in a clean environment where the chances of infection can be reduced. She needs to be allowed to recuperate in comfort with painkilling tonics to encourage her to heal… as do _you_ ," he added with a hard look at Jason.

"I'll be fine," Jason retorted firmly, his face setting into a stubborn frown as he waved away Pythagoras' concern. "If we could get her to somewhere comfortable… somewhere like you described… would it be worth the risk?

"It would depend," Pythagoras answered. "At this precise moment in time then I would – if forced – have to say yes… that the Queen is stable enough to be moved as long as it were in easy stages with a definite goal in mind and as long as the destination were not too far away… but that might change at any moment."

"It's not a risk that I would take lightly," Jason said softly, "but Anaxandros _will_ send out hunting parties and we have to be ready to move on before they get here… and be ready to keep moving if we need to… but we need to make the decision before the Amphigeneians take it out of our hands and make it for us."

"So what are you suggesting?" a deep voice rumbled.

Jason looked up in surprise to find that Minos had left Pasiphae's side and approached them unawares. Behind him Dion loomed out of the semi darkness, returned from whatever scouting mission he had been on, while Hercules entered the cave dragging the carcass of a wild pig – a boar Jason supposed and a large one at that. It would be enough to feed them all without needing try to hunt for anymore meat and Jason found himself remarkably impressed by his older friend's skill.

"Nice pig," he muttered.

" _Nice pig_?" Hercules responded incredulously. "I'll have you know that this is a prime specimen of a wild boar hunted with great skill and caught with great personal valour."

"My mistake," Jason responded with a grin, his eyes flashing with mirth.

"It nearly skewered me with its great tusks," Hercules asserted, warming to his subject, "but I was too clever for it. I sidestepped its charge and drove in for the kill."

"Hercules!" Pythagoras hissed urgently.

"Not the time?" the burly wrestler asked.

"No," Pythagoras confirmed with a glance at the incredulously glowering King.

"I believe you were about to tell us of your suggestions for the immediate future," Minos stated a little impatiently, staring hard at Jason.

Jason gulped. He knew that what he was considering had the potential to work, even if it carried a few risks, but having to spell it out in front of the King was still more than a little daunting.

"Yes Your Majesty," he said, ducking his head automatically.

Minos frowned even more deeply at the reaction but motioned for Jason to continue.

"It's pretty simple really," Jason stated. He turned to Dion. "The other day you said that you had been stationed on the borders of Atlantis for many years."

"That is correct," the big general responded.

"So I'm guessing that you were stationed in a garrison somewhere?"

"In the town of Ityria, yes," Dion answered.

"And there are other towns with garrisons in?"

"Of course."

"And it's likely that some of these towns and garrisons will still be loyal to the King isn't it," Jason said with growing confidence. He did not precisely voice it as a question.

"I would expect so," Dion answered with a faintly growing smile.

"What are you getting at?" Hercules demanded.

"I believe he is suggesting that we should form our own army," Pythagoras murmured.

"Sort of," Jason admitted. "Just bear with me a minute." He looked at Dion again. "What are the nearest towns to here with the most loyal garrisons?"

"Mallena, Kantontum and Ephitake," Dion answered without hesitation.

"But surely Anaxandros will send soldiers to those towns to subdue them," Pythagoras said. "One of his first moves should be to disband the Atlantian army… or at least to subsume it into his own."

"Which is why we have to move quickly before he has a chance to get to the outlying districts," Jason answered. He looked at Minos. "Is there any way of confirming that orders come directly from you My Lord and are not faked?"

"I have the Royal Seal," Minos confirmed. "Any orders that I dispatch to the distant garrisons would be marked with it."

"And you still have it with you?"

"Of course," Minos answered. "It never leaves me."

"Then we might just have a chance," Jason muttered, half to himself. "Send a runner to each of the garrisons at Mallena, Kantontum and Ephitake with orders to the senior officer to gather his troops and take them to a location of your choosing. Tell your officers to mobilise as quietly as possible and slip out of each town under cover of darkness. With luck the Amphigeneians won't take notice of small groups of men moving in dribs and drabs until it's too late. Send extra copies of the orders with the runners and get the senior officer of each garrison to dispatch men to other garrisons – ones that you know will have remained loyal. If every garrison you send a man to sends out men to two or three more it will quickly gather momentum and you will regain control of a small army. The only problem I can see will be working out where to send the troops. You need somewhere we can regroup in safety but that Anaxandros might not think to look."

"Pagenia," Dion said with certainty. "It is a small town close to the border… a minor settlement with only a small garrison. It is out of the way and likely to be forgotten until the major settlements have been brought to heel." He gave Jason a hard look. "Even gathering the troops from the garrisons we will not have enough men to retake Atlantis."

"I know," Jason answered patiently, "and that's not exactly what I had planned anyway. The troops will be a start, nothing more." He glanced at Minos. "How many of Atlantis' allies would still come to your aid if you called My Lord?" he asked.

Minos sighed.

"Some of them will undoubtedly abandon me now that Anaxandros has taken the city," he admitted. "There are still those who will remain friendly, however. Laius of Thebes would come to my aid and Attalos of Pergamon… and where Attalos leads Mithridates of Pontus will follow. Others would come in response to the actions of those three but Anaxandros' first move will surely have been to dispatch emissaries to our allies to inform them of the fall of Atlantis. Those that were on route will have turned for home."

"But they won't have got very far yet will they?" Jason pointed out. "If we can move quickly enough we can get word to them long before they reach their own borders and ask them to meet us at Pagenia."

"It's a desperate gamble My Lord and fraught with more risks than I like to take," Dion rumbled, "but it might just give us the chance of retaking Atlantis."

Minos sat down on a blanket and steepled his fingers, clearly deep in thought.

"Who would you send to the garrisons?" he enquired.

"I think it would have to be the three soldiers who accompanied you from Atlantis, My Lord," Jason answered respectfully. "Even with sealed orders whoever goes will need to convince the garrison commanders to see them in the first place and it would be easier for a soldier than a civilian."

"It would make those of us who were left here more vulnerable," Melas pointed out, his deep voice mellifluous. "Both the Oracle and the King must be defended."

"There would be enough of us left to defend the group," Jason disagreed. "We'd be left with Dion, Nisos, Hercules, me and His Majesty with swords and Pythagoras and Ariadne with bows. I'm not aiming to start a war with just us but there are enough of us to defend against a standard patrol. Any more than that and we'd probably struggle even with the three extra men."

"I have a sword too," Pythagoras pointed out.

"I know you do," Jason answered. "I was just trying to point out that we have two ranged weapons here and actually you'd probably be more use with your bow at the moment – pick them off from a distance you know?"

Pythagoras pulled a face.

" _You_ should not be fighting anyway," he ventured. "You are injured."

Jason grinned.

"Yeah but I think I could still wield a sword if push came to shove," he said. "If an Amphigeneian patrol finds us I'm not likely be able to sit back and let everyone else do the work."

"So we wait here until Dion's men send word that the garrisons are on the move?" Hercules asked.

"No," Jason answered. "We're just a bit too close to Atlantis here. I think we need to get a bit further away from the city… and for preference to a place where the Queen can recover a bit more. Then as soon as we are ready we head for Pagenia."

"Where did you have in mind?" Minos asked, focussing his full attention on his stepson.

"There's a hunting lodge in the forest," Jason said. "It's deep in the woods… well hidden unless you know where it is… It's far enough from the city that it might be missed in the first sweep and has the advantage that we should be able to see any enemy soldiers coming from a short distance away and should be able to escape into the woods if we need to."

"I know it," Minos acknowledged, "although I am surprised that you do. It is a former royal hunting lodge but it has been abandoned for many years and as far as I am aware should be fairly derelict. It is unlikely to be much more comfortable than this cave."

Jason exchanged a look with his friends.

"Actually it should be fairly well equipped, Your Majesty," Pythagoras offered. "We came across it several months ago and as no one seemed to use it and it appeared to have been abandoned we adopted it and have used it several times as an overnight shelter when we have been out hunting. It will not have the level of luxury that is appropriate to your position but there is a marriage bed and the mattress has been re-stuffed with fresh hay and feathers, and there are supplies there… dried herbs, dried fruit and lentils, barley… that sort of thing. There are also blankets and pillows." He hesitated. "We do not have a great deal to spare," he admitted, "and there have been times when we have all been closer to starvation than I would like to think… but over the months we have built up a few supplies at the hunting lodge to enable us to eat and sleep in comfort if the weather closes in and the hunt goes badly." He paused again briefly. "The thing that concerns me is that Her Majesty should really not be moved at present."

"I know," Jason agreed, "but we may not have a choice. At least this way there will be a warm, clean and relatively comfortable bed for her to be resting in. Will it actually be dangerous to move her?"

"She will not be able to walk," Pythagoras cautioned. "If we carry her and take the journey in nice easy stages then, yes, she should be able to make the trip to the hunting lodge… but she is unlikely to be able to make the long walk to Pagenia even with a few more days rest. Her Majesty is not yet strong enough to withstand the rigours of such a journey. Her injury is such that she will be at risk of infection."

"What if we had horses?" Nisos asked from his place behind Dion where he had stayed silent throughout the discussion to this point.

"Horses _would_ make things easier and would help us to transport the Queen more easily," Pythagoras said. "It is possible that she might be able to make the journey to Pagenia on horseback if she were to rest as much as possible over the preceding few days and once again travel in stages. I do not think it will be easy to obtain horses however."

"Maybe and maybe not," Nisos answered with a smile. "My brother runs the stables in the town of Colia. It's a small no account place on the far side of the forest. I could see you all settled in this hunting lodge that you are speaking of and carry on to visit my brother. He is a former soldier himself – had to leave the army because of an injury – and has always been loyal to the throne. I am certain that he will lend us his best horses… certainly enough for yourself, the Queen and the Princess to ride Your Majesty," he added, addressing Minos directly. "It will take me no more than a few days to go to my brother and return to your side."

"Much as I acknowledge the need for us to move to a more secure location – or at least a less easily discovered one – I will not risk the Queen's life or health," Minos responded slowly. "If I understand what you are saying properly you believe that she _could_ be moved now but that you would not truly be happy to see that happen; that you would worry about the consequences," he looked at Pythagoras who inclined his head in acknowledgement and agreement. "Very well then… we will remain here until this unnaturally clever young man is happy for Pasiphae to be moved and believes that she is well enough." He nodded to Pythagoras.

"Presuming I have _any_ say in matters that concern my own body…" Pasiphae's acerbic tone took them all by surprise.

As Dion stepped sideways out of the way the Queen was revealed propped against the wall on the far side of the fire. She had pushed herself up to sit against the wall with trembling arms that she tried hard to still and regarded them all imperiously from her position, the sheer force of her personality enough to still the conversation even in her current condition. Alongside her the Oracle knelt, smiling enigmatically but not yet feeling the need to join in the conversation.

"I am merely worried for your wellbeing my love," Minos said. "I would not see any more harm coming to you."

Pasiphae felt a surge of something that might have been affection towards her husband. It was always a surprise to be confronted with the evidence of his love for her, especially given her own emotions towards him tended to range from ambivalent to contemptuous most of the time. Lately though, since she had discovered that her son still lived and even more so since Jason had come back into her life, she had begun to regard Minos with increasing affection. Perhaps it would never be described as love but they _were_ comfortable together in their own way; were used to one another. To allow her husband (to allow _anyone_ ) into her heart seemed like such an alien thing to do and yet it had felt natural to allow _Jason_ access to that part of her that was normally closed off and hidden away and now it felt like _Minos_ was worming his way in through the gap a little too. His reaction to her son had both surprised and warmed her; the fact that every time he spoke of the boy he sounded a little less like the King and a little more like a father and the obviously growing respect and (dare she even think it?) affection he was displaying was both remarkably sudden and startling… and pleased her more than she would have believed possible.

"I know My Lord," she answered warmly. "I am not so weak as everyone seems to believe I am though and feeling a little better every day. For all our sakes we must move on sooner rather than later and I believe that it would be better to leave while I am feeling strong enough. It will do no good to delay our departure for too long and an extra day will hardly cause any great improvement in my condition. Better to leave soon and find a place of relative safety and comfort for a few days than to be caught like rats in a trap. I do not wish to remain in this dark and uncomfortable place for any longer than is strictly necessary."

Minos sighed.

"Very well," he conceded. "As long as those within the group possessed of healing skill deem you to be well enough we will make our departure tomorrow." He held up one hand to forestall any arguments from any of his companions. "That is my decision," he proclaimed. "My final word on the matter and there will be no argument." He looked around the group imperiously as though daring anyone to object. "Good," he said when no objections were forthcoming. "Now I believe that we have further plans to make."

* * *

As sunset approached the usually bustling streets of Atlantis emptied rapidly in response to the Amphigeneian imposed curfew, which started every night with the going down of the sun and ended every morning with the dawn. Soon enough the only people seen in any numbers in the streets were the enemy soldiers patrolling from street to street with hard faces and cold eyes, their hands never straying far from the hilts of their swords, ready to crush any resistance to the new rule.

There had been resistance of course, just as soon as the confusion and shock at the speed of the Amphigeneian assault had sunk in – and rumours abounded about the fate of the King and the rest of the royal family. There were those who said that Minos and his family were prisoners in their own cells beneath the Palace or had been killed in the initial assault on the Temple; who shook their heads and cast their eyes heavenwards and said (with the benefit of hindsight) that really what other fate could there have been for a man who usurped the throne in the first place. For the most part though the people were still in shock; Minos had not been a bad King after all (if a little paranoid and hard at times) and the city had gone through a period of stability and prosperity under his rule for more than twenty years. He had always shown great respect and honour towards the Gods and had genuinely seemed to be interested in the welfare of his Kingdom and its people – as many now remembered. Many silently prayed in the safety of their own homes that the King had managed to escape; that he had been spared.

For the most part those prayers were kept secret, however. The fear of reprisals was too great. Already the cells beneath the citadel were heaving with men and women awaiting execution for supposedly seditious activities (even if those activities were simply to express displeasure at the change of rule) and bodies hung from the rafters of houses, left to rot where they had died as a warning to the rest of the populous that any disobedience would be harshly dealt with.

Here and there a figure scuttled from doorway to doorway – citizens who for the most part were terrified of the consequences of being caught out once the curfew began, as it soon would. There were very few people within the city who didn't know – or at least know of – someone that hadn't been dragged off for infringing the new laws.

Gelo left the tavern where he had been conducting "business" on behalf of Meriones and looked up and down the streets with a bitter smirk. What was his city coming to? In five short days it had been subjugated and brutalised; subjected to the tyranny that inevitably came with a coup – or at least as far as any of the citizens knew or could remember. Had it been this way when Minos had taken over? Gelo had been a child at the time but he could still remember his parents talking in hushed whispers behind closed doors; the early curfews that were designed to ensure that the populace had no time to get together and form a rebellion; the fear that had pervaded the streets. It was the same fear that he could feel now, hanging heavily in the air; a living thing that wormed its way inside the minds of the citizens and twisted their thoughts, making them fearful of one another – always afraid that the person they were speaking to might denounce them to the authorities for the slightest thing. It was a fear that set neighbour against neighbour; brother against brother. Perhaps the reach of time had affected his memory and perhaps his own status as a child at the time of the last coup was colouring his view somewhat (given that there _must_ have been things that his parents had shielded him from), but somehow the city seemed even more fearful this time around to Gelo's jaded eyes.

He should be getting home he supposed. But really what was home? Simply a sparsely furnished rented room in the back of a widow woman's house that he had occupied ever since his wife's unfortunate death in childbirth so many years ago now – it was not somewhere that he would return to out of choice but with the taverns closing early because of the curfew it wasn't as though he had much choice.

Of course he really ought to go and tell Meriones about the successful conclusion of the business he had been sent on. His large employer often left the minor details of any job that Gelo had been asked to do to the man himself, reasoning that neither he nor Kerkyon needed someone looking over their shoulder all the time. It helped that over the years they had become less like employer and employee and more like friends. Meriones was generous with his two closest employees and they often found themselves sharing in the rewards of any successful business deal that they had been a part of. After so many years there was really no-one else that Gelo could imagine himself working for. Not that that stopped some of the other merchants from trying to entice him away of course and avoiding those offers had almost become a game. Besides which Gelo felt that it did Meriones good to occasionally hint that he might take up a place with one of the giant's rivals. He was fairly certain that Meriones never took him completely seriously but it did help to keep the enormous man on his toes. Meriones was quite simply one of the most intelligent men that Gelo had ever met with a business sense that was unrivalled within the commercial quarter of Atlantis but because of that there were times when he was in danger of becoming bored – of letting his mind stagnate – and giving him a challenge (in this case ensuring the continuing loyalty of a trusted employee) gave him something to think about and stimulated him. Gelo could be nearly as manipulative as his boss when he wanted to be.

He looked appraisingly down the deserted street once again. Sunset was definitely on its way but not yet so close that he wouldn't be able to reach Meriones' house in time. As for returning home after the curfew had begun? Well the Amphigeneian soldiers didn't know these streets anywhere near as well as he did so evading them should prove no real problem. He had his own entrance to his rooms and the elderly widow he rented them from was largely deaf so there was unlikely to be any witnesses to his arrival home after the deadline.

With the practiced ease of someone who began his career in less than legitimate circumstances Gelo slipped silently from doorway to doorway, using the habits of a lifetime to keep him concealed from sight. Even now not all of Meriones' dealings were strictly above board and anyone who worked for him for any length of time had learned the value of keeping to the shadows; the skill of hiding in plain sight. Gelo smiled sardonically to himself. Some old habits were hard to break and right now he got the feeling that they would stand him in good stead.

Letting himself in through the inner door to Meriones' house Gelo was struck once again by the simplicity with which his friend chose to live. Few would imagine, looking at this simply but comfortably furnished room, that Meriones was in fact a very wealthy man. He had come from the gutters in the same way that Gelo himself had and was routinely looked down upon by the nobles that frequented the stalls and taverns that he owned or supplied – was treated as no better than the dust on their sandals even as they sampled the expensive wines he imported or bought the exquisite silks or exotic perfumes traded in – yet there was no doubt that in terms of sheer wealth he could have bought them out many times over. It was a strange dichotomy to his character: the man who loved expensive wines and exotic foods above all things and yet chose to live so simply.

Meriones was standing in the window of the main living room staring down into the empty street below, his face hidden by shadow. Gelo paused in the doorway from the kitchen and frowned. It had been many years since he had seen Meriones looking so pensive and troubled and given how astute the enormous man was at reading a situation – at reading the mood of the city – he could not help the shiver of foreboding that ran through him.

"You have news for me?" Meriones asked without turning.

"None of it good," Gelo answered. "Our _new King_ has ordered a general census of both the people and their goods. He has issued a proclamation that all storehouses are to be opened for his investigators inspection and copies of all documents are to be turned over to his officials. The merchants believe that he intends to bleed the city dry."

"That is undoubtedly true," Meriones responded, still looking out over the street, "but he will not do it yet. First he must be sure of his hold over the city. I have lived through this type of turmoil before – have seen a King deposed and a new one rise in his stead – but never have I seen so many atrocities committed in such a short space of time. This Anaxandros intends to rule by fear; to force the people to submit to his rule through deliberate cruelty. Yet sooner or later he must send the bulk of his army back to Amphigeneia and control the city without such a large force at his back. He will not begin to bleed the city of taxes and resources until he is certain that we are completely cowed; that we will not be in any state to rebel against him. If he had intended to begin stripping Atlantis of its assets immediately his soldiers would not have been prevented from looting our homes; raping our women; selling our menfolk and children into slavery. It _will_ come eventually… but not yet. First he must be sure that Atlantis' allies are not going to come to our aid. Then he must make sure that the entire kingdom is subjugated and not just the city. When he strikes he will want to make sure that it is the entire kingdom he is stripping of resources and not simply the city."

"If that's what you believe is coming should I begin to make plans for us to get out of the city?" Gelo asked calmly. It would do no good as far as he could see to panic.

"And go where?" Meriones rumbled humourlessly. "No my friend. We will remain here and do what we can. Our main assets are at least safe. I oversaw their removal from the city several days ago."

"How?" Gelo couldn't help but blurt.

"Did you not think it strange that you had not seen Kerkyon for several days? He is well on his way to Pathmos by now at the head of a large caravan of goods. There he will wait until it is safe to return home. I used the tunnels as soon as it became clear that the Palace had fallen and selected men who were trustworthy to accompany Kerkyon. Now, what other news is there?"

"Little is certain," Gelo admitted. "The King has not been seen since the Palace and Temple fell. There are many who think that he was killed or that he is a prisoner in his own cells along with so many others."

"I hardly think that is likely," Meriones remarked. Leaving the window he crossed the room and moved back into the kitchen. Gesturing for Gelo to take a seat the enormous merchant grabbed a flagon of wine and two cups from the side and sat opposite his friend and employee, pouring them both a drink and taking a long sip of his own, sighing as the rich fruity flavour hit the back of his throat.

"Good vintage," Gelo noted laconically.

His companion spread his hands wide and gave a self-deprecating smile, his grin remarkably boyish.

"One does one's best," he answered. Then he sighed again, his broad face growing serious once more.

"Why do you believe that the King is still alive and free?" Gelo asked.

"If he were dead then Anaxandros would have crowed it from the rooftops," Meriones responded. "It would suit his purposes for Minos to be dead. A deceased King could have no further claim to the throne and could not be used as a rallying point for rebellion. Likewise if he had been captured then the Amphigeneians would have wasted no time in parading him through the streets before the citizens of Atlantis like an animal to show us how completely we are beaten; the pride of Atlantis humbled before the might of Amphigeneia." His voice had taken on a bitter, sarcastic tone. "They would have ensured that the King was utterly degraded in front of us and then they would have publically executed him in the most brutal way possible. No my friend. You mark my words. The King has escaped and is out there somewhere… and Anaxandros will be hunting him."

"I'll consider them marked then," his friend answered, taking a slow draught of his drink and placing the now empty cup on the table.

Meriones took the hint immediately and refilled the empty vessel. How many times over the years had they sat like this in an evening – whether it was at the tavern or in Meriones' own home? Too many to count really. Gelo toyed with his cup for a moment.

"There has been another proclamation from the Palace," he began slowly. "It was issued late this afternoon… it threatened dire punishment for anyone providing safe harbour for "the upstart Princess, false Oracle or the son of Aeson"… that giving shelter to any one of them would be viewed as treason against the "rightful King" Anaxandros."

"They believe that the Princess is still in the city then?"

"It would seem so," Gelo answered. "It would also seem that both she and the Oracle escaped the Palace and Temple… but I do not understand the business about the "son of Aeson". Everyone knows that the child was killed as an infant… that he was killed in the civil war. Why would Anaxandros believe any different?"

Meriones hesitated for a moment. He had not told anyone what he had learned from Hercules just a few short weeks ago – not even Gelo or Kerkyon. In part it was to protect Jason, knowing that his young friend would not want the secret of his birth to come out. It was also to protect Gelo, however. Meriones felt that the less people that knew the truth the better. If Gelo didn't know the truth then at least he could distance himself from Meriones if the Amphigeneians found out that _he_ had helped the fugitives escape.

"Who knows what goes through the head of a madman?" he murmured. "There _were_ rumours for years that the little Prince had survived but that was all they were. Surely if the child _had_ survived the Queen would know about it? Yet there have been no announcements."

"I suppose you are right," Gelo sighed. "It is just that for a moment when I heard the words of the dictate I hoped…"

"That they were true? That the Prince we lost would come to save the city and us all? It is a desire that many in the city share I am sure," Meriones answered. "And who knows? Maybe we will find a hero to save us."

"You do not really believe that," Gelo said with a sardonic smile.

"My beliefs are… complicated," his enormous companion said. "I pray for salvation. I pray for a hero. The sort of hero that the old legends speak of; that you hear of in the old tales and songs. Yet I accept that we must also help ourselves. How can we expect anyone to save us if we sit back and do nothing? The presence of any sort of hero should rally us but we should not expect any salvation that we are not willing to fight for. It is true that we need a visible symbol to rally around… someone to issue a clarion call… but we must not expect too much. We must do what we can for ourselves – for our city and people – before we look for help from elsewhere."

"Yeah but what can _we_ do? They've won. We are isolated and alone. Anyone who was a soldier in the army is being hunted throughout the city. Many of them are killed where they stand or strung up from the nearest rafters unless they are willing to reenlist with the Amphigeneians and inform upon their own friends and former brothers-in-arms. In the face of such mindless brutality what can any one man do?"

"There are… things that may be done to help those in danger," Meriones answered softly. "Ways that Anaxandros' rule might be resisted without immediately committing suicide by openly challenging his soldiers."

"What are you planning?" Gelo asked suspiciously.

"Me?" Meriones responded innocently. "Why would you thing that _I_ was planning anything? I was merely speculating on what a man _might_ do."

"I know you too well you old fox. You have some trick up your sleeve and I think I'd better know the worst now."

"I cannot tell you," Meriones answered. "You have worked for me for these last fifteen years and I count you as a friend now and not just an employee. I will not willingly place a friend in danger. If I could have sent you out of the city with Kerkyon I would have. As it was I needed you to be my eyes and ears in the city in the way you have always been but I cannot in all conscience continue with that. The stakes are too high now and I will not risk your life unnecessarily. What I am doing… they will call it treason and sooner or later they will find out and come for me. If you do not know the truth then you can distance yourself from me. You can be safe my old friend."

"I rather think that that should be my decision don't you?" Gelo answered, toying with his cup once more. "I'm not the callow boy you took on as an apprentice all those years ago. I'm a full grown man and I can make my own decisions. I know you wish to protect me old friend, but in this you can't. Whether or not I choose to help with whatever you are doing is a decision for _me_ to make."

Meriones looked at him thoughtfully.

"You are right," he admitted with a sigh, "and I am sorry. I have no right to make decisions for you. It is only that I have few enough friends and I wish to see them safe. Kerkyon is safely in Pathmos I hope and Hercules and his boys are beyond my aid. Forgive me for wanting to ensure the safety of those friends I have left."

Gelo frowned.

"Where's Hercules?" he asked. "I presumed he would be at home."

"He and the boys are not in Atlantis at present," Meriones hedged. "They are otherwise engaged outside the city."

"They're lucky then," Gelo said. "But now what is your plan?"

"I do not have a plan as such," Meriones answered. "It is more that I have certain… resources at my disposal and ways and means of getting into and out of the city even when it is essentially cut off. I am… assisting those soldiers who are still loyal to King Minos to escape the city. I understand that some of them are making their ways to the garrisons in the outlying towns. What they might find there I do not know but at least they may have a chance of evading the Amphigeneian forces that way. I will assist anyone who needs to escape from Anaxandros in the same way."

Gelo let out an explosive breath

"The smugglers tunnels," he said with certainty. He looked at Meriones shrewdly. "It is a risk… and it will mean that we'll have to abandon those tunnels when this is all over… or at least until they have faded from people's minds but I can see why you're using them… and why you're doing what you're doing. So then, what's our next move?"

"Sooner or later we will be caught," Meriones cautioned.

"Yes," Gelo answered.

"Someone will get sloppy or someone will inform against us… there are always those who are willing to collaborate in these situations… who are willing to do anything to ingratiate themselves or earn a few coins."

"I know," Gelo said calmly.

"We can expect no mercy if they do catch us… they will try us for treason and execute us like common criminals."

"Meriones… _I know_. What's our next move?"

Meriones smiled and reached for the wine flagon, pouring two more drinks in preparation of what he was sure would be a long night ahead.

"Well my friend," he said, "if you are certain that this is a risk you are willing to take, let us begin to plan."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Well here we are again with another chapter. I can't quite say that I'm satisfied with this one and it's not quite the chapter that I intended it to be but I hope you'll still enjoy it anyway. Let me know what you think.

* * *

"Why have they not been found yet?" Anaxandros' complained, his voice harsh and angry.

The Amphigeneian King sat propped up in bed, his right arm resting in a sling. The knife thrown by Aeson's son had done its work well, he thought sourly. The blade itself had penetrated deep into the muscle, an injury that would have been painful enough on its own and would have required a decent period of recovery without any added complications. As it was though the wound had quickly become infected, the knife having been none too clean after a long night of fighting in the city streets, and Anaxandros had spent much of the last few days in bed suffering the effects of a fever with the wound throbbing without relief.

He owed the boy pain now, he decided; there were cuts to be settled between them. Would that he had made the poison coating his knife blade just a little stronger – enough to dispose of the brat forever, or at least cause permanent harm. Yes, it would have been incredibly pleasing to think of the witch Queen's son permanently incapacitated, his health broken, unable to function without the help of others. All it would have taken would have been just a bit more poison on the blade, something a little stronger perhaps. It was not a mistake that Anaxandros would be making again. When Jason fell into his hands he would not be merciful (and he firmly believed it was only a matter of time before the entire Atlantian royal family was in his hands). The young man had no idea yet what true pain actually was but he would soon learn. Anaxandros comforted himself with that fact.

That Minos and his wife had escaped the city seemed certain now although Anaxandros could not see how it had been done. He had seen with his own eyes the former King and his entourage, the Queen unconscious in the arms of a retainer, retreat to the Oracular chamber below the Temple. That cavern and the living quarters inhabited by the Oracle off it had been thoroughly examined and there seemed to be no other way out other than via the main stairs, yet Minos was clearly no longer down there. It had to be magic – witchcraft – that had allowed them to escape. Anaxandros shuddered at the thought.

It would not do Minos any good though. With his wife grievously injured (if she were not dead already – but Anaxandros supposed that would be too much to hope for) the party could not have gone too far. Having tightened his stranglehold on the city, Anaxandros was now ready to send his men out into the surrounding countryside in search of the former King. Once Minos and his wife were apprehended and disposed of permanently the Amphigeneian grasp on the kingdom would be that much more secure. It was also time to gain control of the surrounding towns. Whilst Anaxandros was certain that none of them were large enough to put up more than a token resistance he wanted to clamp down on any dissent as quickly as possible; rebellion was not going to be given time to form in Atlantis.

Of course there was still the problem of the missing Princess (and Anaxandros still believed that she could be of use to furnish his imbecile son with a string of eminently suitable heirs), the Oracle of Poseidon and the Queen's brat – the boy who had caused so much of his Anaxandros' current pain. They had disappeared into the city streets by all accounts and had yet to be found in spite of Anaxandros' proclamation that anyone found harbouring them would be summarily executed. He hissed slightly as he shifted in bed, the ragged edges of the knife wound in his shoulder pulling painfully. He could not accept that the fugitives had managed to escape the city; it was an inconceivable eventuality. After Atlantis had been sealed – cut off – for weeks now. How could anyone have escaped under those circumstances? Yet if the group had not fled the city then where were they? The city had been torn apart, every building searched, and yet there had been no sign. Anaxandros growled as his rage grew once more.

"They will be found My Lord," the traitor's voice grated against Anaxandros' ears.

"How?" the Amphigeneian King demanded.

The traitor had proved useful, of that there was no doubt, but still Anaxandros would be a fool to trust him completely. Even now he could not bring himself to think of the man by name: his life would be determined and his legacy remembered as the courtier who had betrayed a King and brought a country to its knees. Not that anyone was aware of that fact as yet. Most of the members of the Atlantian court were under some form of house arrest until their loyalty could be decided. There were undoubtedly those who would be resistant to the new rule and who would have to be dealt with accordingly – a few object examples made to encourage the rest to remain in line – but equally there were bound to be those who would see which way the wind blew and try to ride along with it; who would welcome Anaxandros as long as he did not threaten their own positions. As far as most of the court was aware the traitor was in the same position they were: held under house arrest and being brought to Anaxandros for questioning. For now the Amphigeneian King was content to leave things that way. The traitor would be of much more use if those who might potentially resist believed he was still loyal to Minos.

"Your Majesty we have to consider the idea that the Princess and her companions may no longer be in the city," Ceyx's stoic voice interrupted Anaxandros' thoughts. "We have searched everywhere and found no trace. It is possible that in the chaos that followed the battle they may have found a way to escape the city."

Anaxandros rounded on his general.

"You are telling me that your men have been so incompetent that they have allowed the Princess to escape?" he hissed in a dreadfully quiet voice. "Then let us see if we cannot persuade them to be more diligent in their duties in the future."

"My Lord," Ceyx began.

"You will gather the men responsible for taking and guarding the city gates General," Anaxandros went on. "You will line them up in front of the main body of troops. You will divide them into groups of five. Every fifth man will be scourged by his comrades – will receive one hundred lashes. It will fall to the other four in each group to administer the punishment and if the job is not done well you will punish them all."

Ceyx looked momentarily horrified.

"One hundred lashes My Lord?" he queried, his voice registering his discontent. "But surely morale…"

"Two hundred then," Anaxandros growled. He cast a dark look at the soldier. "I can make it more if you continue on your current course… and if you do not have the stomach for command there are plenty who would."

Ceyx swallowed hard. It was no more than a few days since he had seen Anaxandros' last general, Gurgos, Ceyx's former commanding officer, disposed of in a typically brutal way. He had no intention of allowing his own career to end in that sort of manner. Better to submit to the will of his King and follow the orders he had been given than to face disgrace and ignominy, with execution following shortly after.

"I will see it done Your Majesty," he answered.

"There is another matter that I feel I must raise Your Majesty," the traitor murmured unctuously.

"What?" Anaxandros barked.

"I am… concerned about the quality of recommendations you are receiving from your advisors," the thin man went on. "The wording of the last proclamation delivered was perhaps a little… unwise… and given your own clear political acumen, My Lord, I can only assume it was worded that way on the advice of those who council you."

"In what way was the wording unwise?" Anaxandros demanded. "Be very careful. I have punished men for less."

"Sire I have only your best interests at heart," the thin man protested.

"And your own I have no doubt," Anaxandros responded. He shifted uncomfortably in the bed, silently cursing the accuracy of Jason's knife throwing once more. "But do not assume to test my patience with prevarication. I have little time for it at this present time I assure you."

The thin man looked at the Amphigeneian King appraisingly. Anaxandros had never had the most pleasant temperament and his current level of discomfort – the direct result of both the injury to his shoulder and the illness it had caused – was making dealing with him even more hazardous than usual. Still the traitor had survived in the Atlantian court, with all its intrigues and petty rivalries, for more than twenty years now, all the time serving his Amphigeneian master to further his own ends. He was nothing if not wily and knew that the vain and arrogant King could be easily manipulated with a few words of flattery dropped in here and there.

"I do not intend to prevaricate, My Lord," he answered obsequiously. "It was the reference to Aeson's son which may prove to have been unwise. The general populous are like sheep… easily led and easily cowed… yet an idea, once it takes root, can spread through them like wildfire. The citizens of Atlantis have believed for more than twenty years that their Prince was killed. His name has not been spoken of for long years now. In the minds of the people the boy is dead and long forgotten. To mention him in the proclamation… it will bring him back into the minds of the people… and if the people believe that their Prince is indeed alive they may become more resistant to your rule. The idea, once it takes hold, that Aeson's son is still alive will grow and spread. Rumour will fuel it like wildfire… and to have referred to him in the proclamation will give those rumours credence."

Anaxandros glowered.

"The people really did not know of the boy's claim?" he asked darkly.

"No My Lord. Minos did not wish the boy's identity known beyond a few trusted advisors within the Palace," the thin man's voice was heavy with irony as he mentioned the 'trusted advisors' since he himself had been a member of that select group. "I gather that it was partly for the boy's own sake since he had not yet had the opportunity to come to terms with his identity and partly because Minos was not yet certain of what to do with him… and did not want to risk the boy becoming a figurehead of rebellion, even unwittingly. He had not yet ascertained whether the boy would be of further use beyond this current siege and was hardly likely to name him as a member of his family until he was certain what path to follow."

Anaxandros swore under his breath. This was not something he had considered. He had been certain that the people would have become aware of Jason's identity as soon as the boy had declared himself. It seemed strange to him that the lad would not have declared himself from the rooftops to force the court to accept him. Yet now that he knew the truth he was uncomfortably certain that the traitor was right and he had indeed made a fundamental error. This could indeed spread ferment and discord if he permitted it to. Still it would do no good to allow anyone to see that; to admit to his mistake.

"It scarcely matters," he growled. "The boy will be in our hands soon enough and any claim he believes that he has to the throne will be snuffed out along with his life. He will be found and he will be made to suffer for the impertinences he has offered us. He will die a traitor's death. It is only a matter of time. Make no mistake I intend that the line of Atlantian Kings will end now. Find them… find all of them! Do whatever it is that you need to do to make this happen."

* * *

The rain had set in shortly after the midday meal on their second day out from the cave. Pasiphae had proved obstinate in her insistence that they should move to the hunting lodge and in spite of his misgivings Pythagoras had been forced to agree to their departure. Whilst it might potentially risk the Queen's health to make the journey there was no doubt that the conditions at the end would be far superior.

As things were the start of their journey had passed off easily. Pythagoras had awoken before the dawn to discover Dion's three soldiers preparing to set off on their journeys to the garrisons, orders from the King already hidden amongst their equipment. He had been unhappy to note that Jason was also up and around at such an early hour, having hoped that his friend would still be sleeping, knowing that no matter how easily they took the journey it would still be a difficult and painful one for a young man with several broken ribs. It appeared though that his hopes had been thwarted, although whether it was because Jason was habitually an early riser or whether his ribs had been bothering him in the night was unclear and Jason himself had once again proved frustratingly reticent on the subject while there were other people around who might hear.

Pythagoras had watched without comment as his stubborn and annoyingly independent friend had packed his blankets into his satchel, moving slowly and with great care which told Pythagoras more eloquently than any words ever could just how stiff and sore Jason _really_ was. In a way Pythagoras was glad that Hercules had still been asleep. The burly wrestler would have been unlikely to have been able to hold his tongue and would have tried to make their friend sit down and rest. In the mood Jason had been in that would only have caused more problems. Pythagoras was grimly certain that Jason would have obstinately dug his heels in, insisted he was fine and pushed himself beyond his own current physical limitations purely to try to prove that fact, potentially causing himself additional harm in the process. So he had watched his friend struggling through his self-imposed tasks from the corner of his eye, knowing the almost desperate need to not be a burden to his friends that was driving Jason at the moment, but ready to step in and help if it was necessary.

Whilst he had allowed Jason the chance to be self-sufficient in packing his meagre gear (a task that was not too onerous) Pythagoras did draw the line at allowing his currently injured friend to fetch wood and build up he fire in preparation for breakfast as he had apparently been about to do as soon as his blankets were put away. The young genius had simply done the job himself, casually and without comment as if that had been his intention all along and as though he had not spotted Jason slowly moving himself to do the same thing. With a smile he had turned and asked Jason to begin to wake those members of the camp who were still asleep as he had begun to prepare their final meal in the cave, noting clinically that his dark haired friend winced as he turned and preparing a painkilling draught for both his patients to take before they began their journey.

Leaving the cave had been remarkably smooth. Pasiphae had plainly realised that travelling in her ruined dress was not practical and by the time Pythagoras had moved over to her with the tonic he wished her to take she had completed what preparations she was able to. It was with some surprise that he discovered that she had, with the help of either the Oracle or Ariadne, ripped away the diaphanous skirt of her dark blue dress to leave the trousers that were usually hidden by the skirt (wide legged and gathered at the ankle) and worn to protect her modesty when riding. The remains of the skirt itself had been used to wrap her jewellery, removed for travelling, into a small bundle which could be added to one of the bags and carried easily. The blood stained and torn bodice of the dress had either been removed or was simply hidden by the single spare tunic that Ariadne had brought from the Palace inside Pythagoras' satchel, worn unbelted by the Queen to avoid placing any pressure on the wound to her stomach that was only just beginning to heal, the scabbed over skin delicate and tender and all too easy to reopen. Pasiphae had scraped her usually immaculately dressed hair back into a braid similar to the one that Ariadne wore. It was strange to see the imperious and coldly beautiful Pasiphae dressed in such an odd mismatch of clothing yet somehow she still retained her regal air; was every inch the Queen.

She had managed the journey much better than Pythagoras had expected. It was true that he had increased the dose of painkilling tonic that she had received, adding in a light sedative to make the journey easier and try to prevent as much pain as he possibly could, but even so Pasiphae had been uncomplaining, allowing herself to be carried by Dion, Hercules or Nisos, taking turns to share the load. Pythagoras knew only too well that under normal circumstances Jason would have tried to join in and didn't doubt that his friend was strong enough but fortunately even _he_ seemed to realise that it simply wasn't a possibility at this moment in time; that he was simply not well enough to help.

The first day had passed easily, although by nightfall they had all been glad to make camp and rest for a time. Sometime around late morning Nisos, scouting ahead of the group, had spotted a patrol in the distance which had necessitated a short stop while they hid in bushes, staying as still and quiet as possible for anxious minutes until the patrol passed by and went on its way. After that they had picked up the pace by unspoken agreement, all determined to put a little extra distance between themselves and the city and keen to reach their destination as speedily as possible. It meant that they had covered far more ground than they had expected to by nightfall and could anticipate reaching the hunting lodge on the next evening rather than having to spend an extra night in the open. Still their increased pace had tired them all and the evening's camp had been subdued as they sought what rest they could. Pythagoras had spent a fair amount of time ensuring that the journey had not been too taxing on Pasiphae and that she was made as comfortable and pain free as possible. He had intended to persuade Jason to allow himself to be examined properly as soon as Pasiphae was settled, if only to ensure that his friend was not in undue pain. By the time Pythagoras had finished with the Queen, however, Jason had already appeared to be asleep and Pythagoras had not liked to disturb him.

Still he had had some misgivings about the wisdom of that course of action when he had awoken early this morning to once again find Jason slowly packing up his blankets into the satchel that he had allowed no-one else to carry for him, bluntly stating that the bag wasn't heavy and everyone else already had enough to carry. He had managed to persuade Hercules to help him into his breastplate yesterday, the side lacings tied much more loosely than usual in deference to the broken bones in his ribcage, and had not bothered to take it off when settling down to sleep last night. Pythagoras supposed he could see the wisdom of it given that they were essentially fugitives on the run at the moment, and yet he couldn't help wishing that Jason would just let go of some of that rigid self-control that he was leaning on and allow himself to be helped instead. It wasn't pride exactly, of that the mathematician was only too well aware, it was more an instinct to melt into the background, a desire to avoid burdening those around him with his pain, to stop those of their companions who he was still perhaps instinctively a little wary of from seeing any weakness in him, a survival instinct that was largely unconscious Pythagoras felt.

It was fairly apparent to the young genius in that still hour just before the dawn, watching Jason crouching on the far side of the fire and seeing the misery in his features when he believed that no-one was looking, that his friend had slept very little; a fact that had grown ever more apparent as the day had progressed. Every line in Jason's body screamed of exhaustion and Pythagoras had had to bite his lip on more than one occasion to stop himself from calling a halt just to give his friend a chance to get a few minutes rest. As it was every time he had considered it, drawing in a deep breath in preparation to speak on at least one occasion, he had found his friend's dark eyes on him, their expression challenging as though daring Pythagoras to speak out on _his_ behalf. As with yesterday Pythagoras knew that that would only lead him into a direct confrontation with the more obstinate side of his friend; a situation he wanted to avoid if at all possible so that he didn't goad Jason into any form of rash activity which might cause him further damage in an attempt to prove his own point. Far better to manipulate Jason carefully and work around his stubbornness, backing down from a direct confrontation now in order to marshal his arguments for when they were really needed, and hopefully to be able to step in before Jason tired himself past the point of collapse. Pythagoras ruefully shook his head. Sometimes Jason was just too pig-headed for his own good.

They had set off early, each of them keen to reach their destination and the small comforts it might provide as quickly as possible, and had stopped shortly before midday to make a light meal of cold meat (cut from the boar that Hercules had hunted and roasted slowly over the fire the night before they had left the cave), nuts and berries, hurriedly gathered from nearby trees and bushes. Pythagoras had not been able to keep his worry from his face as he had allowed his eyes to roam across their little group, noting that while some (Hercules for instance) still ate with their usual gusto, several of his companions ate very little. There seemed little that he could do about it here though – the sooner they could get to the hunting lodge, where the more fragile members of the party could be encouraged to rest and be provided with a hot meal, the better.

Now though the weather had closed in on them; the wind picking up alarmingly and fat drops of rain making their way down through the canopy of the trees to soak the travellers below in a steady downpour. This was not a good situation for any of them to be in, particularly the ailing members of the party. Almost unconsciously Nisos, once again at the head of their group, began to pick up the pace.

Pythagoras looked around himself with worried eyes. Pasiphae should most definitely not be out in this weather. The cloak she was wrapped in, commandeered from one of the soldiers who had been despatched to the garrisons, was already saturated, the hem hanging heavy and streaming water down onto the forest floor, splashing up the legs of Dion, who was currently carrying the Queen. Pythagoras cursed under his breath. In her currently weakened state she would undoubtedly be more susceptible to a chill (just as Jason had been after the incident with Dakos so many months ago now) and would need to be made warm and dry as soon as they arrived at the hunting lodge; put to bed with warm blankets, a tonic and possibly some hot broth to ward off the effects of the cold and rain. Actually, Pythagoras decided, some hot broth would do them all good. It would be one of his first tasks when they arrived.

The young mathematician turned his attention to his other companions. Nisos and Dion were stoic soldiers. There was something reassuring about their solid presence. Nisos still ranged a little in advance of the main group, although still within sight, his eyes everywhere as he looked for potential threats. He looked a little cold as the rain soaked through his cloak, but Pythagoras was certain that Nisos would take no harm from it.

Truth be told Pythagoras was more concerned about other members of the group. Minos was not particularly robust, for instance. After all it was only a few short months ago that he had apparently been on his deathbed. That he had recovered at all seemed nothing short of a miracle. Yet his health was not what it had once been and Pythagoras couldn't help but worry that a journey in adverse weather conditions would be dangerous for him. He looked across at the King with worry. Minos had spent most of their trip attempting to ensure his wife's wellbeing and comfort, stoically ignoring any discomfort on his own part. The care that he had shown towards his family had certainly increased Pythagoras' opinion of the man. Minos had always seemed so cold and aloof to the people of Atlantis – a figure to be respected and feared rather than loved – yet he was clearly not the uncaring monarch that Pythagoras had always believed him to be. That new found esteem meant that the mathematician wished to spare his King as much discomfort as possible. The sooner they reached their destination the better.

Ariadne was stronger than she looked. Both the journey they had made to the mines of Pangeon and the fact that she had managed to escape the Palace and the city and had travelled through the wilderness for four days with Jason to re-join them with no apparent harm or discomfort coming to her spoke volumes to Pythagoras for her levels of resilience. The Princess might look delicate but there was an underlying strength – a hardened core – that would see her through most things. That didn't mean, however, that Pythagoras didn't wish that Ariadne never had to experience any great level of discomfort; Ariadne deserved better than having to trudge through the woods in the middle of a storm.

As for his other companions, the Oracle seemed untouched and untouchable; ethereal and remote as ever. Whilst Pythagoras knew she must be just as wet as the rest of them, the rain barely seemed to touch her; did not seem to bother her in any way. She glided serenely along, her face lost in the deep hood of her dress, pulled up to cover her head for travelling. How was she not cold? Pythagoras shivered involuntarily as a gust of wind stirred up the fallen leaves. It seemed that the Oracle was also made of sterner stuff than she seemed.

Pythagoras looked round at his fellow travellers and froze, suddenly pulled from his contemplation of the other members of the group by the discovery that one of them was missing. Where in the name of the Gods had Jason got to? The last Pythagoras had seen of him he had been walking along with Melas towards the back of the group, seemingly deep in conversation. The young genius had had the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that Jason had been avoiding him all day to be honest, although perhaps it would have been more accurate to say that he had been distant from all of them. Maybe he had simply been lost in thought as he walked but in truth Pythagoras suspected that an unhealthy dose of exhaustion coupled with a rising tide of pain and the desire to keep his friends from worrying had more to do with Jason's aloofness on this occasion. His friend's tendency to distance himself, to retreat into himself and to throw up defensive walls, whenever he was upset or hurting was one of Jason's least endearing and most difficult character traits for those around him to navigate. In a way Pythagoras could understand it, knowing what little he did of Jason's background, but it still didn't make it any easier or any less frustrating.

It had therefore been something of a pleasant surprise to see him conversing with Melas. As long as Jason was still talking to _someone_ then things couldn't be too bad – although Pythagoras would have naturally preferred it if his friend had been talking to _him_. At least then he could have assessed the state Jason was in properly rather than from a distance and taken appropriate action if he felt it was necessary. As it was the mathematician had been forced to gain what information he could from casting surreptitious glances in Jason's direction whenever he thought his friend was too deep in conversation with Melas to notice.

Now though Melas had come forwards to speak with the Oracle before moving on towards the King, his eyes intent, and Jason was nowhere to be seen. Pythagoras peered through the pouring rain at the path behind them, hoping that Jason would appear at any moment. Perhaps he had simply paused to retie his boot or relieve himself behind a bush; perhaps he had told Melas where he was going. Pythagoras slipped forwards, oblivious to the concerned frown Hercules shot in his direction as he hurried past.

Having briefly consulted with the High Priest, Pythagoras dropped back to the rear of the small band, biting his lip and settling his satchel more firmly on his hip, preparing to go back down the trail they had travelled along. As he did a large and firm hand caught hold of his arm and he spun around in surprise.

"What's wrong?" Hercules demanded quietly.

"I have lost track of Jason," Pythagoras admitted. "He was speaking with Melas earlier but now he is nowhere to be seen."

"Maybe he just nipped behind a bush," Hercules suggested. "It happens to the best of us."

"He didn't mention anything to Melas about stopping for any reason," Pythagoras fretted. "In fact he told Melas that he would be fine at the back of the group and would keep an eye out for any Amphigeneians until Melas returned from consulting with the Oracle and the King."

Hercules swore softly.

"That boy is nothing but trouble," he grumbled. "As if we didn't have enough to do without trudging back through a downpour to find his sorry behind." He looked at Pythagoras. "You keep moving," he instructed firmly. "We're not all that far from the hunting lodge and you'll need to show _them_ the way there." He nodded towards the rest of the party who were still moving forwards at a steady pace. "I'll find Jason and we'll catch up with you as quickly as we can."

Pythagoras came very close to heaving a sigh of relief. If the stoicism of Dion and Nisos was comforting, the steady strength and reliability of Hercules, hidden as it was behind a mask of grumpiness, was doubly so. He would rather hear his old friend moaning about the situation than any other sound; Hercules could always be relied on to provide him with support; would always be at his back whenever he was needed. To have the burly wrestler take this particular problem off his hands was reassuring and lightened the burden that was on the young man's shoulders, freeing him to look after the Queen.

"Don't worry," Hercules rumbled preparing to turn back down the path. "Jason will be fine. I'll make sure of it."

* * *

Jason was cold, wet and thoroughly miserable. As he trudged along through the steady downpour he wondered just when the last time he had felt quite this cold had been. Certainly not since he had arrived in Atlantis with its warmer climate than what he had been used to growing up in England. It was a little embarrassing actually. He had looked around the group as he had been walking along and few of the others seemed to be feeling the cold the way he was at the moment. Certainly none of _them_ seemed to be shivering uncontrollably. Although to be fair he hadn't been feeling one hundred percent well even before the rain started. Perhaps that had something to do with it.

It didn't help that he was exhausted either. The first night in the cave, when Pythagoras had basically drugged him into insensibility, had been almost sinfully restful and Jason longed to go back to that feeling. For the last two nights though he had barely slept at all. Oh he had gone to sleep easily enough – too tired to stay awake any longer – but a combination of insomnia coupled with the sharp and constant aching from his side had put paid to sleep fairly rapidly and he had found himself lying awake for hours in the darkness, unwilling to move and risk increasing the pain from his ribcage but unable to get back to sleep. What sleep he had achieved could hardly have been described as restful, plagued by strange and disjointed images so randomly attached to one another that they could hardly be called a coherent dream.

Jason sighed. Perhaps he should have asked Pythagoras for something to help him sleep last night, much as he hated the thought of taking any sort of sleeping draught – even a herbal one. Out here in the woods though, with the Amphigeneians hunting them, it had seemed distinctly imprudent to put himself in a position where he might potentially struggle to wake if they had been attacked in the night. So instead he had endured and forced himself to struggle on, feeling Pythagoras' inquisitive and knowing blue eyes on him at every turn and being irrationally annoyed by it. Part of him couldn't help but be infuriated that Pythagoras could see through him so easily and yet seemed to be making no move to help, while the larger part was almost desperate to deny that he needed that help and was frustrated that his body was betraying him in this way.

The downpour wasn't helping matters too. Jason had spent the morning trudging along half in a haze, his energy rapidly dwindling under the steady pace that Nisos had set at the head of the group and his head feeling like it was stuffed full of cotton wool. The brief stop for lunch had done little to restore his energy levels and he had picked at his food with little enthusiasm, once again feeling the weight of Pythagoras' concerned gaze but unable to muster any sort of appetite – the constant throbbing from his ribcage and the bone aching tiredness that coursed through him seemed to have put paid to that. Tiredness had left him increasingly irritable and he had drifted to the back of the group as they had set off again, unwilling to take his bad temper out on his companions and afraid that he would start snapping at them before much longer as the quirks of their personalities – something he usually treasured – grated on his frayed nerves. It had been easier to hide how truly awful he was feeling at the back of the group too; to allow himself to drift along uncaringly. Pythagoras (and more than likely Hercules too) would want him to stop and rest if he knew just how painful it was getting to move or just how tired and ill Jason was actually feeling but Jason would be damned before he allowed himself to slow the group down; before he put them in danger in that way (after all there were Amphigeneians out there somewhere). Especially when he desperately wanted to reach their destination himself and just curl up by a nice warm fire and shut out the world; especially when this journey had been _his_ idea in the first place.

When the rain had set in after the midday meal, it had put the icing on what was already a miserable day. Within minutes they had all been soaked to the skin, the winter wind catching at wet clothes and chilling the bodies underneath even more. By the time Melas had chosen to drop to the back of the group to keep Jason company, the young man had been frozen through, squelching soddenly along, the cold wet mud of the forest paths oozing in through the open vents in his boots, and shivering nonstop. The constant shivering wasn't doing much for the ache in his side either and more than once he found himself suppressing coughs as one or the other of his companions drew near. There was nothing they could do to help until they reached the relative comforts of the hunting lodge so Jason had squared his shoulders and forced himself to keep going, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest as the chill wind threatened to steal his breath away.

To be honest he wasn't entirely sure why Melas had chosen to come back and keep him company. Jason was only too painfully aware that in his current less than stellar mood he was not going to be the best company and his conversation was more likely to tend towards the monosyllabic than the sparkling. Melas hadn't seemed to mind, however. He had apparently been content to walk along telling stories of life in the Temple (where he had apparently been a priest since he was a boy) and did not seem to expect any sort of response from his companion. Jason was rather grateful for that as he wasn't really feeling up to a meaningful conversation but Melas' steady stories, delivered in his deep resonant voice, helped the time to pass more quickly and he found that he could lose himself in them as he walked, blocking out the misery of the day and the way he was feeling.

Eventually Melas had excused himself and gone forwards to discuss some matter or other (and Jason hadn't really been concentrating enough to work out what the matter was) with the Oracle and had then moved on to the King. Jason had tried to reassure the priest that he would be fine on his own for a little while (because he had somehow muzzily thought that Melas seemed to be worried) and assured the man that he would keep a watch out for Amphigeneians until Melas returned to resume his stories.

Without the priest at his side to distract him, however, the cold had rapidly caught at Jason once more, making his teeth chatter unpleasantly. A particularly sharp gust of wind had stolen his breath and set off a nasty coughing fit which had robbed him of his breath completely. He had been forced to stop, leaning heavily against a tree as jagged spikes of white heat ripped through his chest, almost doubled over and unable to breathe at all, until the fit had passed. By the time he had been able to straighten, still feeling more than a little dizzy and shaky, the rest of the group had passed out of sight.

Jason frowned as he tried to force his tired body to pick up the pace a little, still slogging through mud and rain. He really needed to catch up with his companions before they noticed that he had slipped off the back of the group and came looking for him, not wanting to slow them up in any way, particularly since they must be nearing their destination by now. His feet didn't seem to want to cooperate, however, moving sluggishly as though his brain's instructions to them had got lost in translation somewhere, slowing them down to the point where he felt like he was trying to move through treacle. To be fair his mind wasn't actually moving at a much better pace, wasn't registering what he was seeing properly, and so it was almost inevitable somehow that his feet would catch on a fallen branch which seemed to have been put there just to trip him up. For someone who could somersault over bulls with relative ease and grace there were times when Jason could be distinctly clumsy and accident prone – and now was one of those times.

Landing on the forest floor was jarring to say the least. Somehow Jason had managed to stop himself from hitting the ground too hard, putting his hands out blindly to break his fall. Consequently he didn't land quite hard enough to injure himself but the air was still knocked out of him and he lay still for a moment, too stunned to move and momentarily uncertain whether he was hurt or not. Now that he was horizontal his body most definitely protested against the idea of being upright again. It would be only too easy to drop his head down onto his arms and let himself drift away. Jason knew deep down that there were probably very good reasons why he shouldn't let that happen but right now his brain was too foggy to let him think of them or to care.

He ached all over and every movement caused his ribcage to protest painfully, so for a moment he stayed exactly where he was, mentally cataloguing the various aches and pains and trying to work out whether any of them were worse than they had been a moment ago. From somewhere in the back of Jason's mind he thought he remembered hearing someone cry out as he fell, swearing loudly, and now he somewhat fuzzily identified the sound of feet rapidly approaching. He was so tired though and everything was dim and confusing. Just a little sleep, he promised himself. Just a little sleep and everything would no doubt make sense.

A hand grabbed his shoulder suddenly, firmly but not roughly, and Jason turned his head to blink up in sleepy confusion. Hercules' broad face peered back at him, his mouth set into a deep frown and his eyes worried.

"Are you hurt?" the burly wrestler demanded gruffly. "More than you were already," he clarified.

Jason blinked owlishly.

"Don't think so," he managed uncertainly after a moment's thought.

"Are you sure?" Hercules asked

"Yeah," Jason answered vaguely.

"Right then," Hercules rumbled. "We need to get back to the others. Up you get. You can't laze around here all day. There could be Amphigeneians and all sorts in these woods."

Jason tried to force his fuzzy brain into gear. Thinking when he was this tired was a distinct challenge.

"Oh," he managed, still not moving.

Hercules gave a long suffering sigh.

"Get up onto your knees to start with and then we'll get you onto your feet from there," he said with exaggerated patience, making sure every word was slow and clear.

It worried him that Jason clearly wasn't mentally tracking properly at the moment. He had seen the young man trip over the branch, falling with one hell of a bang, but hadn't been close enough to intercept and catch Jason before he hit the ground. Hercules was fairly certain that his friend hadn't hit his head though so there seemed to be no obvious cause for his apparent confusion. He looked more closely at Jason and swore as he took in the bleary, slightly bloodshot eyes, sliding away from him to stare off vaguely over his shoulder, and the weary slump to his friend's shoulders. He had seen Jason exhausted before and knew what signs to look out for so how had he missed it this time?

"Alright," he muttered under his breath, "let's try something different." He tapped Jason's arm gently, noticing that his younger companion's eyes had slipped closed. By the Gods but the boy felt cold even through the soaked material of his tunic. The sooner Hercules could get him up off the floor and heading in the direction of the hunting lodge the better. "Hey," he said. "No going to sleep there. We've got to get moving."

He was rewarded by seeing Jason force his eyes open and shake his head, clearly trying to fight off sleep and regain some level of alertness. With painful slowness the boy pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing with every movement. He seemed to grow a little more alert with every moment that passed and took the water skin that Hercules proffered gratefully, drinking deeply and allowing the lukewarm, gritty water to revive him somewhat, before taking a deep, exhausted breath and handing the skin back to the burly wrestler, turning tired eyes towards his friend.

"What now?" he breathed in a voice dripping with fatigue.

Hercules frowned. He thought he'd already gone through this a few minutes ago. Still, he reminded himself, he couldn't be entirely sure just how alert Jason had been at the time. It was entirely possible that he had not managed to follow what his larger friend had been saying at all. Even now Hercules had the feeling that Jason was struggling to concentrate. It was more than a little worrying.

"Now we try to catch up with the others," Hercules reiterated gently.

"Of course," Jason muttered. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"No," Hercules grinned suddenly. "That's what we have Pythagoras for… to do the thinking."

Jason blinked in faint confusion as he tried unsuccessfully to work his way through Hercules' weak joke. He went to push himself to his feet but thought better of it as the world briefly span out of focus.

Hercules frowned.

"Need a hand?" he asked.

"No," Jason responded automatically. "I'm fine."

"Of course you are," Hercules snorted, reaching out with one meaty hand to grab hold of a fistful of his friend's tunic. "Look, just humour me alright?"

Without waiting for agreement he gently dragged Jason upright, sharing every wince and half-strangled gasp that the young man couldn't help letting out with sympathy brimming in his eyes. Once Jason was standing Hercules moved into his side, bracing his friend until he was certain that the young man was steadier on his feet. He frowned, feeling his friend trembling slightly under his hand, unsure whether it was because of cold, pain or just plain exhaustion, but suspecting that it was probably a mixture of all three.

Still, it would do no good lingering here in the still pouring rain. Not waiting for an invitation, Hercules dragged Jason's right arm across his shoulders and slipped his own arm around the young man's back, resting his hand on his friend's hip below the area where the ribs were damaged, trying to avoid causing any additional pain or distress if he could. It worried him slightly when Jason didn't object, knowing that his friend's independent nature would usually make him resistant to this sort of help.

"Right then," he said. "Let's go."

The wind was biting and the air thinned even further. Before they had gone too far Hercules was forced to stop as Jason fought unsuccessfully to smother cough after cough, bending forwards and hacking helplessly, leaning his weight into his older friend. Hercules frowned again. Jason had had a cough for a couple of weeks now but what had been a dry hacking suddenly sounded much more wet and congested. The burly wrestler's worry deepened, even as Jason, the coughing fit finished for the moment, straightened once more.

Jason, for his part, didn't even bother trying to hide how rough he was feeling from his friend right at this moment. Instead he let his head rest against Hercules' ample shoulder for a minute, drawing strength from his older friend.

"Are you alright?" Hercules rumbled.

"Yeah," Jason answered, trying to ignore Hercules' sceptical look.

They plodded on in silence for a time. Gradually the rain slackened off and the wind began to die down, eventually stopping altogether. As the weather improved, Hercules felt Jason becoming more capable and self-sufficient, still clearly beyond tired but at least able to focus enough to walk without guidance. Still he couldn't help but hover protectively close, ready to step in again if his young friend should falter.

The silence of the forest felt more than a little oppressive to the burly man and so to fill it and to help pass the time as they walked he began to tell stories once again, knowing that he would always have a ready audience in Jason; the lad had a tendency to listen to any story that he was told with rapt attention (much to Hercules' delight given that Pythagoras was not always the most tolerant listener where tall tales were concerned, having heard most of them before) and even when he did interject the odd snarky comment it was always in a light-hearted spirit.

This afternoon though Jason's comments held more than their usual bite and little of their usual sparkle. Hercules sighed. It seemed that his friend was firmly in the cranky stage of tiredness, growing irritated with the least provocation. At least he was focussing a little better – which was an improvement on the state he'd been in when Hercules had found him. The burly wrestler firmly clamped down on his own temper, reminding himself that Jason probably didn't mean to snap and really couldn't help being grumpy under the circumstances, and that actually his irritability was probably one of the reasons he had been loitering at the back of the group – after all he knew that Jason didn't usually like taking his temper out on other people; he was just a bit too sunny natured for that.

Eventually, after a particularly vitriolic response that had made Hercules physically bite his tongue, nails biting into his palms as he clenched his fists at his sides, fighting his own rising temper manfully, Jason glanced across and sighed.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I don't mean to be… well you know…" he finished with a vague wave of his hand.

Hercules couldn't help but notice that his friend was still shivering in spite of the improving weather. At some point in the downpour the hood of Jason's cloak had slipped back off and his dark curls were plastered to his head and dripping a steady stream of water down his back. His clothes were soaked through and streaked with mud from where he had tripped over. All in all he looked like a miserable mess; cold and tired. Hercules glowered, wanting nothing more than to bundle the lad up in some nice warm blankets by a roaring fire with a hot drink to soothe away the coughs that he could see were still trying to bubble up and perhaps one of Pythagoras' tonics to help ease any discomfort and help him rest. That wasn't going to happen while they were still out in the open though.

"Let's just keep moving," he grunted. "I know you're tired, cold, wet and miserable… and actually I'd like to dry out too… so the sooner we can get indoors the better."

"Who said I'm tired?" Jason snapped defensively.

Hercules quirked an eyebrow.

"You've been stumbling along, can barely keep your eyes open, tripped over your own feet back there and are acting like a grumpy, overtired child," he pointed out sharply. "Anyone with half a brain can see you're exhausted… so let's get to the hunting lodge where we can both dry out and get a bit of rest."

Jason bit back the retort that was on the tip of his tongue. Much as he hated to admit it Hercules was probably right. He shivered again, teeth chattering, and coughed wetly, hand immediately grabbing at his ribcage as a spike of pain lanced through him as a result. To his consternation Jason was unable to supress a large yawn, once again fighting a wave of weariness that swept over him and avoiding Hercules' knowing look.

"You're probably right," the young man sighed. "Alright let's keep moving."

It was a relief to both friends when the hunting lodge appeared in front of them, looming through the trees. The small clearing in front of it was deserted but as they approached Nisos appeared from inside and raised his hand in greeting before disappearing around the back. Jason's energy levels were rapidly fading once more and he had come close to tripping over his own feet several times in the past few minutes, causing Hercules to once again duck under his arm and support him – if only to guide him in the right direction when it seemed that Jason's overtaxed and overtired brain wasn't going to be of any use in telling him where to go. As they approached cottage, however, the young man's basic need for independence reasserted itself and much to Hercules' annoyance he shrugged off the supporting arm and headed forwards under his own steam.

Opening the door to the small building the pair were hit by a wall of heat being given off from the small but roaring fire Pythagoras was bustling around. Although the group couldn't have been there for too long they had obviously been busy – lighting the fire, putting up the storm shutters, lighting the lamps, making up beds and getting a pan on to cook. Pasiphae was already ensconced in the large bed against the wall, fast asleep and looking far more comfortable than she had in the cave, with Minos sitting on a stool at her side and the Oracle grinding something into a paste at the side of the bed, muttering prayers over the bowl she held, aided by the ever vigilant Melas. Ariadne seemed to be making up beds for everyone else throughout the room, patting straw that she had obtained from somewhere into thick mattresses and covering them with heavy blankets. Several of these beds had clearly already been completed and the Princess seemed intent on making the rest equally comfortable, her beautiful face intent. Only Dion and Nisos were not present in the room.

For a moment both Jason and Hercules stood in the open doorway basking in the warm glow of the fire until Pythagoras turned and saw them.

"Are you going to come in or not?" he asked with some asperity. "You are letting all the heat out standing there with the door open."

As Jason stepped forwards the young genius looked at him with raised eyebrows, taking in the muddy and wet condition of the clothing and the general air of exhaustion that seemed to cling to his friend with a faintly worried frown.

"You've been busy," Hercules rumbled.

Pythagoras turned.

"Well if we are to be here for a few days we might as well be comfortable," he answered primly. He looked around the warmly lit room with the golden glow coming from the lamps with an air of satisfaction. "The wood that we brought inside last time we were here will stand us in good stead until the ground outside is dry again and I have finally had time to investigate that small store at the back."

"And?" Hercules asked uncomprehendingly.

"It was full of dry straw," Pythagoras answered happily. "It may be a few years old and no longer good enough for animal fodder but it was more than adequate for making comfortable beds. At least we will not have to sleep straight on the ground and should have some comfort." His eyes strayed to Jason as he spoke.

If Jason even heard what his mathematically inclined friend was saying he gave no indication. He felt exhausted and ill and wanted nothing more than to curl up somewhere out of sight where he could metaphorically lick his wounds in peace. Another round of coughing bubbled up wetly from his chest and he bowed his head, wrapping his arms around himself, the rest of the room fading into the background as he tried to draw enough air into his protesting lungs.

Pythagoras' eyes narrowed instantly and he swooped in on his friend as soon as the coughing fit had passed. Before Jason really knew what was happening, and certainly before he could even think of objecting, he found himself stripped of his wet clothing, a towel having been rubbed through his wet curls to dry them off, and lying on one of the makeshift mattresses fairly near to the fire, propped up against a wall with pillows at his back, warm blankets over his legs and a flagon of something warm thrust into his hands.

"I am making a simple stew for supper," Pythagoras announced to the room in general. He shot a look at Hercules. "It would do _you_ good to dry off and get warm too."

"I'm going to," Hercules protested.

"Good," Pythagoras responded sharply. He turned back to Jason with another cup in his hands. "Before you try to object I know you are in pain and I know you do not feel well so please do not even bother trying to tell me otherwise. This should allow you to rest more comfortably so I want to see you drink it all… and I really do not care _how_ _bad_ you think it tastes. That cough worries me. It is growing worse and I do not wish to see you developing a lung fever. Your chest is clearly already congested and I fear there is an excess of phlegm in your lungs. For now please just rest. I do not want to see you trying to help with any jobs… no matter how small… until I am certain that you will take no further harm. I have flaxseed in my stores here so I will be brewing up a remedy to ease your cough as soon as supper is over."

"Pythagoras," Jason started, not really intending to object to his friend's ministrations because actually he already felt a little better for the care that the mathematician was providing, but feeling as though he should at least acknowledge what he was being told.

"No Jason!" Pythagoras went on, in full flow now. "I must insist that you do as I ask. You are not well no matter what you think and I do not want to see you stirring from that bed at the very least until your colour and breathing are improved."

"Pythagoras," Jason tried again, fighting off a bout of coughing.

"I knew that the journey from the cave would be hard on you and I expected you to need to rest at the end of it… but it is plain to anyone with eyes that you have not slept and are exhausted. The journey was clearly more difficult than I had expected and I still don't know why you were so covered in mud when you got here… or for that matter where you had gone when you disappeared from the rest of the group."

Pythagoras was quite impressive when he was in full flow, Jason couldn't help noticing. He sighed, knowing that the young genius was unlikely to be happy with his explanation of where he had been. Pythagoras always seemed to take it as a personal affront when one of his friend's didn't look after themselves.

"I had a coughing fit and had to stop," he admitted quietly. "Couldn't seem to get my breath. I was trying to catch up and I tripped over."

"Tripped over a branch," Hercules added helpfully from the other side of the room. "It took me a while to get him moving again or we'd have been here sooner."

Pythagoras' eyes narrowed even further.

"I'm not hurt," Jason hurried to try to reassure his friend as quickly as possible. "Well no more than I already was. I'm just very, very tired… and you're right, I don't feel very well. I just want to sleep but I don't seem to be able to."

Pythagoras nodded, crouching down next to his friend.

"You should have said something last night," he said.

"Maybe," Jason acknowledged. "I can't think straight at the moment."

"That is because you are so tired," Pythagoras answered. "Trust me to do the thinking right now. Trust that I know what is for the best. Drink this and settle down for a while. I would like you to try to eat some supper once it has finished cooking."

Jason pulled a face. He might feel a little better than he had while they were making their way here but he still really didn't feel much like eating.

"I know," Pythagoras said sympathetically. "Eating is probably the last thing you feel like doing at the moment. Nevertheless it will help you regain your health and strength much more quickly if you can eat."

"Alright," Jason answered tiredly. "I'll do whatever you like and take whatever you want."

Pythagoras frowned slightly. It always worried him when Jason acquiesced so easily. It hardly seemed to be in his friend's nature to give in without a fight and generally told him just how rough Jason was feeling. Still at least it meant that he might actually let himself be looked after for once.

"Very well," he said softly. "Now who would like some supper?" he added more loudly, looking around the room.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Thank you all once again for the lovely reviews. It means a lot that you have taken the time and trouble to leave me a few words, especially since I was so worried about the last chapter. To my guest reviewer I'm sorry that I can't respond to you more personally but I would like to extend special thanks for taking the trouble to leave such a full review. I actually agree with you on several of the points you have raised (they were things I was already unhappy with in the previous chapter) and I have thought a lot about what you said. I won't say I agree with you on everything but thank you for the constructive criticism - it's a rare thing to receive (especially when it's kindly meant as yours clearly was). I'm glad that in general you're enjoying this story (and the previous ones) and I really hope you carry on enjoying them :-)

Anyway, on with this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. Let me know if you do.

* * *

Pythagoras looked out of the window at the bright early morning sunshine with a faint smile. Looking out at the clearing in front of the hunting lodge, bathed as it was in a bright glow as the sun streamed down between the trees, it was hard to believe how unpleasant the weather had been just yesterday. As always the start of a new day lifted his spirits and the sunshine seemed to bring with it the promise that better days were coming soon, lightening his heart and making his burdens easier to bear.

Nisos had left them in the hour before the dawn, determined to get to Colia as quickly as possible. The journey would take him three days on foot. If all went well and his brother was able to help by providing horses Nisos hoped to be back within five days.

Five days. In a way Pythagoras was grateful for the postponement of their journey, although he knew that the more impatient members of the party would chafe at the delay. But with various members of the group needing time to heal – to recuperate from injury or illness – the rest could only be beneficial. Actually Pythagoras couldn't help but feel the rest would be good for all of them. He himself was more than a little tired and beginning to feel stretched too thinly. Ever since Jason had been poisoned by Anaxandros it had felt as though they had lurched from one disaster to another without having the time to draw breath in between. From the moment the Amphigeneians had broken through the Telapius Gate he had barely stopped; had been called upon to fight and then to exercise his medical skills in increasingly fraught circumstances.

Even last night he had felt unable to relax in case he was needed. Pasiphae seemed much better for the move from the cave to more comfortable surroundings it was true, but Pythagoras couldn't help but grow increasingly worried for Jason. His friend was ill, there was no way around it. Jason might have wanted to try to be strong and stoic but in the present circumstances even that had eluded him. It always worried Pythagoras when Jason simply gave in to his ministrations, knowing that his dark haired friend had to be feeling truly terrible for that to happen. It was only when Jason was at his weakest, when illness or injury had sapped him of his strength, that he gave in without a fight, simply not being able to muster up the energy to be stubborn or argue. The truth was that much as Jason's obstinate nature frustrated his friends, Pythagoras would far rather see it as it meant that he was not that ill.

Last night though Jason had plainly been exhausted. Shortly after supper he had been easily persuaded to settle down for the night and had slept through without waking, aided by a very mild sedative concoction that Pythagoras had pressed upon him. It was so mild that under normal circumstances it would barely have touched Jason (perhaps making him a little sleepy but that would be all) but given his state of exhaustion it had worked in conjunction with his body's demands for rest and had allowed him the peaceful sleep that seemed to have eluded him for the last few days.

Pythagoras had been unable to prevent himself from waking and going to check on both his patients several times in the night, however. Every time he had gone to check on Jason he had found his friend fast asleep, sleeping heavily and snoring lightly as the congestion in his chest made itself known. Pythagoras frowned at the thought as he glanced across at his friend once more. That wet, chesty cough worried him, evidence (if evidence were needed) of something potentially nasty setting in. The last thing they needed right now was for Jason to develop peripneumonia, or indeed _any_ sort of lung fever, but it was clear that he already had excess phlegm in his lungs and Pythagoras could only hope that getting plenty of rest in a warm and draught free room would help to ward off anything more serious.

Jason _was_ going to get plenty of rest too. Pythagoras was determined about that. Even if he had to enlist every other member of their party he was going to make sure of it. Pasiphae might be weakened at the moment but the young mathematician was in no doubt that she would take a very dim view of her son risking his health in any way and would act accordingly. Looking at Jason now it was plain that he was unwell, his skin paler than normal as he rested against the pillows and a worrisome wheeze in his breathing.

As Pythagoras watched, still frowning with concern, Jason turned his head and opened his eyes, smiling sleepily across at his friend. Pythagoras couldn't help but return the smile with one of his own and moved purposefully across the room to crouch down beside the makeshift bed.

"Morning," he greeted softly. "How are you feeling?"

Jason appeared to consider it seriously.

"Better than yesterday," he answered truthfully.

"Yesterday you were hindered by exhaustion," Pythagoras answered primly. "I have told you before that it is not good to allow yourself to become so tired."

"I know," Jason responded. "I haven't been sleeping well for a while," he admitted.

"If the pain from your ribs was not allowing you to sleep you should have told me," Pythagoras said with an annoyed frown.

"It wasn't that," Jason answered, "and before you ask it wasn't insomnia either, it was… you know what… never mind."

He pushed himself painfully to his feet and shuffled over to the window, pulling a blanket around his shoulders as he went. There was a long low cupboard under the window and Jason pulled himself up to sit on it, bare feet resting on the top, legs bent at the knees. He looked moodily out of the window at the bright day. Pythagoras was struck by a strong feeling of deja-vu. For a moment the image flashed into his mind of Jason sitting in the exact same position with the same sort of look on his face in the window seat of Meriones' home. Pythagoras had come so close to losing his friend to the demons inside his head back then and he'd be damned before he let that happen again.

With short strides the young genius crossed the room and pulled himself up to join Jason in the window, sitting facing his friend, so close that their feet were almost touching.

"What is wrong my friend?" he asked. "You have not been yourself for some time."

Jason sighed and looked around the room, noting that his mother was asleep on the bed but that no-one else seemed to be present.

"Where is everyone?" he enquired.

"I do not know," Pythagoras answered. "They have all found tasks that have taken them outside… and you are evading my question."

"I don't know how to answer it without you thinking that I'm mad… maybe I _am_ going mad," Jason answered.

"I have always known that you are quite mad," Pythagoras answered with an amused smile, the humour in his voice taking the sting out of his words and letting Jason know that he was joking. "But then so am I. None of us are completely normal. I spend my days dreaming about triangles, Hercules spends his drinking, gambling and telling tall tales…"

"Don't forget eating pies," Jason interjected with a small grin.

"Indeed," Pythagoras agreed, "and you run off on ridiculous quests for the first person that comes your way with a pathetic story… I do not believe that any of us qualify as completely sane."

"Maybe not," Jason answered with another small grin. He rested his head against the window frame and looked out thoughtfully. "Do you ever have dreams that seem to come true?" he asked suddenly.

Pythagoras frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Do you ever go to sleep and have a dream and then find it comes true?" Jason responded. "Do you ever dream something and then something happens when you're awake and it's exactly the same?"

"I once dreamed that Hercules went for a whole day without wine or pies," Pythagoras remarked.

"And did it come true?" Jason asked.

"No," Pythagoras answered with a laugh. Then he looked at Jason more seriously. "You are asking me whether I believe in prophetic dreams," he said. "I do. The Gods work in mysterious ways. I have witnessed too much of their powers to doubt them." He reached out and grasped his friend's hand. "You can tell me anything," he stated earnestly, "and I will not judge."

"Not long after we got to the Palace I had an odd dream one night," Jason admitted. "I dreamt of the night the Amphigeneians got into the city… and I swear it happened just as I dreamt it." He swallowed hard. "I also dreamt of the attack on the Temple. I saw Anaxandros kill the Oracle on the altar."

"But it didn't happen that way," Pythagoras said. "Because you stopped him." He gripped Jason's hand a little more tightly. "The Gods gave you a gift… gave you a warning that allowed you to save Poseidon's Priestess. Do not doubt it. This was a blessing that we should all be grateful for."

"Maybe," Jason answered. He lapsed into silence again and peered out of the window.

"What else is troubling you?" Pythagoras asked.

"Everything's happened so quickly," Jason said softly. "Less than a month ago I knew who I was and where I belonged, but now… I don't know what's going to happen when this is all over. A big part of me just wants to come home but I don't think that's going to be possible… I'm not sure Minos will allow it… and I don't know if I can quite say goodbye to _them_ either." He glanced across at the sleeping Pasiphae. "She's nothing like I imagined her to be… and she's nothing like I imagined a mother _should_ be… but then I'm probably nothing like the son she dreamed I'd be either… and we seem to fit with one another, you know?" He sighed. "Then there's my father… Aeson… I don't know what I'm supposed to do about him. I've still got so many questions but I'm not sure I'm going to like or want the answers… I'm not sure I want to see him right now but if I want to understand I've got to."

"He hurt you," Pythagoras murmured.

Jason inclined his head in agreement.

"I've always known deep down that I was angry at him," he acknowledged, "but I always sort of idolised him too… I always dreamed that one day he'd come back for me. Now I know he was never going to and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about that. I don't know if I'll be able to see him without losing it completely."

Pythagoras hesitated for a minute.

"Maybe there was a reason why he could not come back," he said softly. "I do not know precisely where it is that you come from but I believe it to be some distance away."

Jason snorted.

"You have no idea," he said.

"No," Pythagoras murmured a little sadly. "I know."

Jason flicked a sharp glance at him.

"You've always been a good friend," he muttered. "You've never pushed or asked me too much… even though you must have wondered."

"I have always believed that you would tell me in your own time," Pythagoras responded. "That one day you would trust me enough."

"I do trust you," Jason answered hoarsely. "I trust you more than anyone… and you have no idea how much I've wanted to tell you… how many times I've come close." He looked down at his hands. "When I first came here the Oracle told me not to tell anyone where I came from," he admitted.

Pythagoras sucked in a sharp breath.

"Then you should not," he said. "An edict from the Gods must not be taken lightly and must not be challenged."

Jason grimaced.

"I'm not entirely sure it was an edict from the Gods," he said. "The Oracle said that I had many enemies in Atlantis and that I must tell no-one where I came from… where I'd journeyed from to get here. She made it sound like it was for my own protection. Then the man who'd been the Minotaur said that Minos must never learn who I really was… only he has so I don't know if that means I still need to keep things secret."

"We must abide by the advice of the Oracle," Pythagoras answered. "You must accept what you have been told."

"But why should I?" Jason protested. "Why should any of us? I know the Oracle knows a lot about the future; that she receives visions from the Gods… but she's only human herself. Why shouldn't I do what my own conscience is telling me is right, even if it disagrees with the word of the Oracle? She gave me that warning when I didn't know anyone really. I mean I'd met you and Hercules but I didn't really _know_ either of you and I didn't know back then who I could trust. I know now and I'm so tired of keeping secrets… only I don't know what you'll think of me if I tell you the truth… whether you'll believe me or ever forgive me for not telling you… whether you'll think I'm mad."

"Jason you are my friend," Pythagoras answered confidently. "Nothing you could tell me would ever change that. I may not know much about where you came from before you landed on my balcony but I do know you… and I do not believe that you would ever truly lie to me."

"I've been lying to you from the start," Jason mumbled. "Letting you believe what you wanted about where I come from and not correcting you. Hercules was right: a lie is a lie, whether it's told directly or by choosing which bits of the truth to tell. I _am_ a liar."

"No," Pythagoras protested firmly. "You were only protecting yourself and taking a reasonable precaution in an unfamiliar situation. The Oracle, who clearly knows exactly where you are from and knew who you were before you did, had instructed you to take that course. It was not a lie. It was self-preservation."

Jason peered up at his friend from under his eyelashes, concerned about what he would see. It wasn't that he doubted Pythagoras' sincerity – far from it – but he could hardly believe that even his gentle friend could be so understanding and forgiving. The affection and complete trust he saw reflected back from Pythagoras' blue eyes was enough to bring a lump to his throat.

"You're still the kindest man I have ever met," he muttered thickly. "And I'm still not sure that I really deserve your trust _or_ your friendship." He broke off into a chesty cough.

"I am still worried about that cough," Pythagoras remarked. "Your chest is a lot more congested than I would like."

Jason wrinkled his nose but waved off his friend's concern.

"It'll be fine," he said. "Getting wet and cold yesterday probably didn't help. I don't feel all that bad if I'm honest. I mean, yes, when I first woke up my chest felt a bit tight… it sort of felt like Hercules was sitting on me… but I'm a lot better now that I'm up."

"Yes," Pythagoras responded. "I would imagine that being upright _is_ more comfortable and will certainly be better for you."

"I know," Jason answered. "I have been ill before you know and before I came to Atlantis I had to look after myself. I think it's probably just the sort of thing that you have to wait out. At least we're indoors and in the dry for a few days… hopefully. That'll help."

"I think you are probably correct," Pythagoras said. He arched an eyebrow at Jason. "I hope you will not object too strongly if I try to help things along their way though. There are tonics that I know of that will be beneficial… and I _will_ be insisting that you get enough rest."

Jason laughed.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he said. "You wouldn't be you if you weren't doing your mother hen routine." Then he sobered and squared his shoulders. "The Oracle told me that there were many worlds," he said softly.

"Other than this world?" Pythagoras asked.

"Yeah," his brunette friend answered. "She said that this world and the world I journeyed from were just two among many." He looked down at his hands again, uncertain that he wanted to see the look on Pythagoras' face.

"You come from another world?" Pythagoras gasped in shock. "You come from another world," he affirmed more certainly, seeing the look on Jason's face.

He did not doubt that his friend was telling the truth; there was no hint of jest in Jason's demeanour. The young hero looked horribly uncertain and anxious, as though he was unsure what Pythagoras' response to his revelation would be; was unsure whether he would be believed. Without even thinking of what he was doing Pythagoras reached out and grabbed his friend's arm, squeezing comfortingly.

"So that is why you know so little of our culture," he added softly.

Jason nodded dumbly.

Pythagoras attempted a reassuring smile.

"Suddenly a lot of things make a great deal more sense," he said.

"You're taking all this remarkably well," Jason said, risking a look at the young genius.

"I do not see the value in having a screaming fit," Pythagoras answered. "No doubt when this has all sunk in I will have many, many questions for you but for now will you tell me a little about this world that you have come from?"

"It's different to here… very different," Jason answered slowly. "For a start it's more than three thousand years in the future. Apparently my father took me through the gateway between the worlds when I was still a baby and abandoned me there."

Pythagoras could not fail to hear the underlying hurt in his friend's voice, but Aeson and his lack of parental ability was a problem for another time; for now he felt he had more than enough to try to comprehend.

"Tell me about Atlantis?" he asked. "What is it like in your world?"

Jason tensed involuntarily.

"There is no Atlantis," he admitted softly. "Maybe there was once but now it's just a story."

"The mythical city under the ocean," Pythagoras breathed, remembering his friend's words from the first day they had met. "That was what you said when you first learned where you were."

Jason nodded.

"Where I come from there's an ancient Greek writer – Plato. He wrote that Atlantis was an island that fell out of favour with the Gods and they made it sink into the sea. Only it's a myth… it never really existed… or maybe it did and everyone just forgot it… and Minos was King of Crete not Atlantis. It's what I found hardest when I came here. All the stories about ancient Greece that I heard when I was growing up are all true but they're all twisted too."

"What do you mean?" Pythagoras asked.

"Where I come from there are legends of Hercules… only he's a demi-God; the son of Zeus… and he's this massive hero who ends up being taken up to Olympus in the end. There's a Jason too… only he's definitely not me… I don't think. The Jason from the myths of my world was the son of a King who ended up going on a quest to find a golden fleece but he didn't face the Minotaur or fall in love with Ariadne – that was Theseus – and he didn't have anything to do with Medusa – that was Perseus. So maybe I'm not _that_ Jason after all."

Pythagoras tried to make sense of this somewhat rambling speech – only one thing stuck in his mind.

"The people where you grew up think Hercules is a demi-God," he squeaked, unable to restrain his laughter. "Can you imagine what he would do?"

Jason looked startled for a moment. Then he sniggered too.

"He'd be up on Olympus teaching the Gods bawdy songs," he said.

"Or holding pie eating contests," Pythagoras suggested.

"Making rude words in the constellations."

"Gambling away whatever land he was supposed to be looking after."

"It wouldn't end well would it?" Jason asked between giggles.

"No," Pythagoras answered, his eyes dancing.

Neither young man could restrain their laughter for a minute or two. Then Jason looked serious again.

"Do you know the thing I struggled with most of all though?" he asked softly.

"No," Pythagoras answered.

"It was that in with all the mythological stories there are real people – real _historical_ people mixed in… like you."

"Me?" Pythagoras couldn't help asking.

"Yes," Jason answered. "Where I come from you're a famous mathematician and philosopher. You came up with this theory about triangles that every child learns in school."

Pythagoras blinked.

"Did _you_ learn it?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Jason answered.

Pythagoras blinked again, stunned.

"That is…"

"Amazing?" Jason said, giving a lopsided grin.

"Difficult to comprehend," Pythagoras answered. "I will need time to think on everything you have told me."

"Oh," Jason responded, his smile falling away as he looked down at his hands. "I understand… and I am sorry that I didn't tell you before… I wanted to but… I suppose I couldn't believe my luck. I've never fit in anywhere before but with you guys I felt like I did… and the longer I went without telling you the truth the harder it got."

"Do not be ridiculous," Pythagoras said sharply. "Whatever it is you are thinking right now please stop it. I am not about to insist that you leave or decide that you are no longer my friend. I may not have known your past but I do know you and I based my decision to be your friend on the person that I have come to know and love. As you have been told on numerous occasions we are a family and that is not about to change for anything."

"Do you think Hercules will feel that way too?" Jason asked.

"Now you really are being ridiculous!" Pythagoras stated. "Hercules may be upset at first but he will undoubtedly forget it as soon as he realises that his name is still remembered so many years in the future. To truly know that he is a legend among his people will more than make up for anything else." He hesitated for a moment. "I do have to ask though… how did you come to arrive in Atlantis? You spoke of a portal?"

"I don't really know," answered Jason. "I was trying to find out what had happened to my father. Everything I told you about that was true. Only… the ship I was on went under the water… it's called a sub. There was some sort of accident – a bright light in the water – and the next thing I knew I was waking up naked on the beach. I don't know how I got here and I don't know how to get back even if I wanted to… which I don't by the way."

"And I would not wish you to return there unless it was your desire to do so," Pythagoras responded warmly. "We do have to consider something though."

"What?"

"How we are going to tell Hercules."

"How you are going to tell Hercules what?" Hercules' deep voice boomed from behind Jason.

Both young men started in surprise, turning to look at the burly wrestler with identical expressions of shock that he would have found funny if he had not been suspicious of the conversation he had just walked in on. The fact that Jason was managing to look both guilty, nervous and a little defiant did nothing to calm those suspicions.

Jason peered around his older friend towards the bed, noting with some relief that Pasiphae seemed to still be sleeping peacefully. Then he turned back to Hercules.

"I think you'd better sit down," he ventured. "There's something I need to tell you."

* * *

It was afternoon when Pythagoras slip-slithered his way down an embankment in search of his burly friend. Hercules had had quite long enough to brood and it really wasn't going to do any of them any good to allow it to continue. At the bottom he paused and looked at his old friend's broad back, taking in the stiff tension in Hercules' strong shoulders and mentally preparing himself for the conversation he knew was to come. Hercules was nothing if not predictable after all and would undoubtedly take his worry and temper out on the first person that came to hand – which in this case was going to be Pythagoras – and the young genius knew he had to prepare himself for that.

It wasn't that he didn't understand Hercules' anger but _he_ could look at things a little more logically. What was done was done for good or ill and in truth he could see the point of view of both his friends. Hercules was hurt that Jason had apparently not trusted them enough to tell them where he came from months ago, but equally Jason had been acting out of self-preservation in the wake of a direct command from the Oracle. Pythagoras' task, as he saw it, was to bridge the gap between his friends and make them see one another's viewpoint.

That had not been too difficult a task with Jason. Once Hercules had stormed out of the hunting lodge rather than lose his temper and risk waking the Queen, Jason had begun the process of retreating into himself again – something that Pythagoras wanted to prevent. A few carefully placed words had encouraged his brunette friend to acknowledge that Hercules was acting out of hurt rather than genuine anger, and Pythagoras was certain that although Jason was still feeling guilty over this – was still mentally kicking himself – it was something that would be quickly sorted out once Hercules was persuaded to come around. This was not something serious enough to break the bond – to break the family – that the three of them had formed and the quicker Pythagoras' two friends could be made to see that the better.

It had seemed a reasonable idea to give Hercules a short time to calm down however, so Pythagoras had not immediately gone rushing after him. When Jason had expressed a certain amount of surprise at this, Pythagoras had gently told him that _he_ had known Hercules for a lot longer than Jason had and knew the best way to deal with the big man's temper.

The arrival of Ariadne at that moment had been a godsend, distracting Jason from any thoughts of Hercules' temper or his own insecurities. Of course Pythagoras had then been forced to watch his friend and the woman he loved making cow eyes at one another without actually touching (in case Minos walked in unexpectedly), but all in all the distraction that the beautiful Princess provided was a good thing – temporarily freeing Pythagoras from the burden of consoling one friend while giving him the chance to deal with the other.

So here he was now, staring at Hercules' broad back and wondering about the best way to broach the subject was.

"I know you're there Pythagoras," Hercules rumbled softly without turning. "I can feel you thinking from all the way over there… you're going to take his side again aren't you?"

"There are no sides," Pythagoras stated firmly. "There is only us and our family."

He crossed the small clearing to the burly wrestler's side and began picking up sticks in silence, helping Hercules with his self-imposed task of collecting firewood.

"He lied to us," Hercules burst out suddenly.

"Jason did not tell us the truth," Pythagoras agreed, "but I think you will see why if you think about it… besides you have lied to me many times over the years."

"When have I ever lied to you?" Hercules demanded, affronted.

"Very frequently," Pythagoras answered.

"Ridiculous! When? Name one time when I have ever lied to you!"

"Well when you are hungry or in need of wine or wish to gamble… all of which you are most of the time. What about the time when you told me that a goat had burgled the house and taken the housekeeping money that I was hiding."

"That was all true!" Hercules protested.

"Hercules the money was beneath the floorboards in my chamber! Are you really trying to tell me that a goat managed to open the door, climb the stairs, open the door at the top, come into my chamber, lift the floorboards, remove the money and then replace the floorboards and leave the way it came, leaving no indications of its presence and closing all the doors behind it?" Pythagoras asked incredulously.

"It was a very talented goat!"

"Well what about the time when you arranged that job for the three of us and then tried to get out of doing any work by claiming to have put your back out?"

"I _had_!"

"We found you down at the tavern later that evening, so drunk you could not see straight and trying to dance with the serving girl!"

"The alcohol eased the pain," Hercules stated. "I was still practically crippled… I could barely move."

"You were moving swiftly enough when we found you," Pythagoras retorted primly. "I did not know it was possible for a man of your size to bend so far over backwards."

Hercules grinned.

"Was I?" he smirked.

"Or the time when you wanted to borrow money to bet on a beetle and told me that you needed it for your sick mother. When I reminded you that you never knew your mother and refused, you became so angry that you dangled me head first from the balcony."

"If I'd been truly angry I'd have _dropped_ you head first from the balcony," Hercules said, sitting down on a fallen tree. "And what sort of man refuses to believe his friend and won't lend him money for his sick mother? Shame on you."

"Anyway you are not so whiter that white where lies are concerned," Pythagoras said coming to join Hercules on the log. "You must see that Jason had no choice."

"Maybe," Hercules answered, drifting off into silence.

They sat without speaking for a moment or two, each lost in their own thoughts.

Finally Pythagoras roused.

"Do you remember when we first met?" he asked.

Hercules let out a breath.

"Yeah," he said with a wry half-smile. "You were so young and skinny a good breeze could have knocked you over."

"And you were still a drunken oaf," Pythagoras retorted with a smile to remove the harshness from his words. "You were coming out of the tavern, blind drunk, and found me in the process of being robbed. I can remember you driving off the attackers and then passing out in the gutter. It took me forever to find out where you lived and drag you home… I only intended to stay until morning to make sure that you were alright but somehow I never left."

"Good times," Hercules said. "There's nothing like a good gutter brawl to get your heart pumping."

"I always wondered why you stopped and saved me," Pythagoras said softly, "when everyone else had put their heads down and hurried on by."

"Well you looked so pathetic that I couldn't just leave you," his friend answered, "and your squealing was disturbing my quality drinking time… besides there were five of them and only one of you, and I've never liked bullies."

"It was a long time ago now," Pythagoras murmured. "We have been friends for a long time."

"Long enough to forget how long and believe it to be forever," Hercules agreed.

"Would you ever have believed that we would be where we are now?" the mathematician asked.

"Hiding out in the middle of the forest with the King and Queen and a marauding army of invaders searching for us you mean?" Hercules enquired. "No I wouldn't. I still can't quite get my head round it as it is."

Pythagoras hesitated for a moment before going on.

"Every choice that has brought us here… every adventure or misadventure that we have had… would you change it if you could? Would you rather Jason had never come to Atlantis if it meant we were both safely at home?"

Hercules' eyes hardened.

"No," he answered shortly. "No I wouldn't. The Gods know that that boy is a constant source of worry to me but I've grown too fond of him to want to change anything now. I'm almost as fond of Jason as I am of you." He spotted the misty look in Pythagoras' eyes and rushed to clarify his last remark. "Of course I'm not as fond of either one of you as I am of wine… or pies," he asserted.

Pythagoras gave him a tolerantly amused look.

"Of course not," he said, the twinkle in his eyes making it plain that he didn't believe Hercules' assertion for a moment.

"No I wouldn't change things," Hercules went on, "and I'll keep following him on these ridiculous missions… even if I _do_ think he's completely insane at times... He still shouldn't have lied to us though."

"Think about it for a moment," Pythagoras suggested. "Jason was far from home in a strange place where he knew no-one. You had already instructed me to get rid of him – to make him leave – and the person he went to for guidance – the Oracle – ordered him not to tell anyone where he came from. If he _had_ told us back then would either one of us have believed him? Or would you have thought he was mad and driven him away?"

Hercules pulled a sour face.

"I'd have thought he was mad," he admitted. "But you have to admit that it is an insane story. I mean… the idea of anyone coming from another world that just happens to be somewhere in the far future is a bit mad."

"It does make sense though," Pythagoras said quietly. "I keep thinking of the day when we met Jason and the strange things he said. At the time I believed him to be delirious and babbling but now everything he said makes sense. He referred to my love of triangles as soon as he heard my name and clearly knew your name… but he also clearly did not come from anywhere local."

"I remember," Hercules answered shortly. "I remember a strange lad with the look of a startled rabbit and frightened eyes. Gods, if he'd arrived here by accident from a world that was so different he must have been at least a little bit terrified."

"You remember that the guards were hunting for him and that he had been shot in the arm?" Pythagoras asked. "When he came round he suggested that he must be dreaming or hallucinating or dead. As I say, at the time I believed him to be delirious when in reality it was probably the only way he could accept what was happening to him."

"I understand why he never said anything at first," Hercules rumbled. "But in all the time since… everything we've been through together… and he never said a word. It just feels like he didn't trust us."

"You have to remember that Jason was still acting under the instructions of the Oracle," Pythagoras pointed out reasonably. "Besides, he said himself that the longer he left it the harder it became to admit the truth. I think that no matter how close we had become there was always a part of Jason that was afraid that if we learned the truth…"

"We would reject him," Hercules finished. He sighed.

"Indeed," Pythagoras agreed. "I believe that ours is the first proper home he has had in many years and he was afraid of jeopardising it by admitting that he had been keeping some fairly large secrets from us."

"So why tell us now? Why after waiting for so long has he chosen to tell us his secrets?"

"Because he could," Pythagoras answered simply. He gave Hercules an appraising look. "Perhaps rather than feeling slighted that Jason did not tell us of his origins before we should be pleased that he has felt able to tell us now," he suggested.

The burly wrestler had the good grace to look a little ashamed of himself.

"You're a good friend to me Pythagoras," he murmured. "To me and to Jason even when we're both too pig-headed and obstinate to see it.

"Better than you deserve," the young mathematician said.

"No," Hercules objected. "Maybe," he admitted.

Pythagoras looked up through the trees, trying to gauge the position of the sun.

"We should be getting back," he said softly. "The others will be wondering where we have gone."

Hercules nodded and stood up, turning to grasp his young friend's arm to pull him to his feet before stooping to gather up the armload of wood he had collected.

The walk back to the hunting lodge was completed in comfortable silence; neither friend deeming conversation to be necessary as they enjoyed one another's company, their long years of friendship making the atmosphere between them relaxed and easy. On reaching their destination they ducked around the back to deposit their collected firewood on the small pile against the back wall of the building.

When they came back around the side of the lodge Jason was waiting for them outside the door. He waited for them to draw close, apparently almost unable to meet Hercules' eyes.

"What are you doing out here in the cold when you could be in the warm?" Hercules growled, frowning.

"I was worried," Jason answered, his tone subdued. "You've been gone some time."

Hercules deliberately ignored the encouraging look that Pythagoras was giving him and stepped closer to his other friend.

"What happened earlier," the big man said. "What passed between us…"

"It was me," Jason answered, finally raising his eyes to meet his friend's. "It was all me. It was my fault. I should have told you sooner. Hercules I'm sorry."

"No," Hercules said gently. "I understand. You had no choice at first… and afterwards it was too difficult. You were only doing what the Oracle told you to do."

"Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive," Hercules asserted. "You and Pythagoras… you're my only family."

He reached out and grasped his young friend's hand, pulling him in for a one armed hug and pounding lightly on the young man's back.

Jason reciprocated wholeheartedly, the look of relief in his eyes bringing a lump to Hercules' throat.

In an attempt to lighten the conversation the burly wrestler cleared his throat.

"Anyway," he rumbled, "tell me more about these stories about me from your world." He cast a significant glance at Pythagoras. "Not that I would expect any less than to be famous in your time," he added. "I've always told you that I'm a legend amongst my people."

Jason gave him a lopsided smile.

"Well," he said. "For a start everyone thinks you're the son of Zeus…"

* * *

Commander Briarus looked up from the account he was reading of last night's tavern brawl with a sigh. He was a solid, dependable man rapidly approaching middle years and a good soldier, although lacking in those flashes of inspiration that marked a true military genius. Still he had served his country and his King loyally for many years and was rightly proud of that fact, having risen to the rank of garrison commander in Kantonum – a small market town on the far side of the Forest of Nysa; the birthplace of King Minos' first wife – a connection of which the citizens were remarkably proud and never failed to tell visitors to their settlement.

Many of the men under Briarus' command secretly despised Kantonum, with its petty, self-important officials and small, provincial problems. It was hardly a bustling metropolis like the city of Atlantis itself, and many of the garrison dreamed of returning to serve in the capital; of winning honours for themselves in battle; of finally returning to their homes as heroes. Briarus shook his head. Most of his men could not see that serving the King in this sleepy little backwater was just as important as guarding the capital itself and that there was great honour and satisfaction to be found in the knowledge of a duty well done.

Kantonum suited Briarus well enough and he had long since ceased to dream of further promotion or any great battle honours. It was true that most of his job involved mediating in petty disputes between the citizens or investigating minor crimes but Briarus was a born administrator and so the role suited him perfectly. Did he dream of one day returning to Atlantis, the city of his birth? Perhaps, but he was realistic enough to know that this would most likely be when he finally retired from the army and looked to settle down to civilian life. That time seemed far away yet though; Briarus could no more imagine life outside a garrison than he could dream of meeting the monarch who he had served so faithfully for so long.

For now he looked back at the report in his hand and frowned deeply. It seemed that the brawl had been started by two of his own men. That they had even been involved was something that he could hardly afford to overlook but the fact that they had instigated the whole affair made it doubly important that he acted. The problem was that these were two of his best and most loyal men. Morale was already fairly low within the garrison as news of the siege besetting Atlantis had reached them. The men wanted desperately to be part of the battle – to help to defend the city that they served – so the orders received from the King that they were to remain where they were protecting Kantonum and the surrounding countryside had not been popular. Briarus knew that the defence of the outlying towns was important of course – after all what use would it be for the city to survive if the rest of the Kingdom fell? But it did not make it any easier for the men to bear, particularly as it was well known that the garrison of Gorgene, the next town over, had been ordered back to Atlantis to aid in the defence.

The men were bored and frustrated and the fact that no real news had come from the city since the Amphigeneians had tightened their stranglehold on the place more than a fortnight ago was not helping. Briarus had a feeling that that frustration had a lot to do with last night's foolishness. His problem was that the rules and regulations of the army dictated that he had to punish the men – and probably fairly severely – yet he found that he hadn't really got the stomach for it. He understood and sympathised with his men in this case; the longer they went without news the more worried he found himself getting. But if he didn't make an example of this pair then his own authority might be threatened. Briarus sighed, silently cursing the two for putting him in this position.

With a frustrated huff he pushed himself to his feet, kicking back the chair he had been sitting on and striding briskly to the door. Throwing it open he thrust his head out into the corridor beyond, startling the guard whose job it was to ensure that any orders he made were dispatched and enacted quickly.

"Have Thrasilaus and Tydeus brought to me," he barked.

"At once," the guard stated.

Briarus made his way back into the room and sat back down, returning his contemplation to the report of last night's fracas. It was a mess and one which _he_ would be expected to clear up to everyone's satisfaction and discipline must be maintained. It was a lesson that he had learned early, taught by his first captain. He smiled softly to himself at the memory. His captain had been young, newly promoted and keen to do his duty. Briarus had been a raw recruit back then – an idealistic young boy who dreamed of glory in battle every bit as much as the men under his command now did. The young captain who had been his first officer had taken that boy and moulded him into a worthwhile soldier.

It had been no surprise to Briarus to find that his former captain had risen quickly through the ranks until he had finally attained the position of general. He had known almost from the start that Dion was destined for greatness; had idolised and hero-worshiped the man. Yet he had no doubt that Dion's elevation was well deserved. He had been a conscientious and caring officer with a high moral code and a great devotion to duty even as a young man.

So what would Dion do in Briarus' position? How would he maintain discipline while preventing the morale of the men from falling even further? Briarus sighed. There seemed to be no easy solution.

A knock at the door made the commander straighten in his seat, pasting his most forbidding expression onto his face.

"Come in," he instructed.

The two soldiers who were brought before him to stand between two of the other guards, their hands shackled, looked decidedly the worse for wear. Tydeus sported a split lip and a swollen nose, clearly broken, and Thrasilaus' right eye was so swollen and blackened that it seemed impossible that he could see out of it. Briarus was in no doubt that both probably had an impressive collection of bruises and abrasions beneath their clothing that would be throbbing now that the copious amounts of alcohol the men had consumed the night before had worn off.

"Unshackle them," Briarus commanded, looking at the two guards who had accompanied the prisoners, "and then you may wait outside."

He had no wish to humiliate any of his men by determining their fate and their punishment in front of their comrades.

Briarus went back to examining his report while the guards undid the shackles and marched out. For a few long moments he remained staring at the document, knowing that the two men were waiting for him to explode and well aware that his continued silence would be unnerving them. Finally he looked up.

"Well?" he asked evenly. "What have you got to say for yourselves?"

His two subordinates shuffled awkwardly, looking remarkably like young schoolboys awaiting a telling off by their pedagogue rather than the hard-bitten soldiers of several years' experience that he knew them to be. They looked at one another uneasily; each clearly willing the other to speak first. Briarus raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at the pair of them.

"It wasn't our fault," Tydeus ventured eventually.

"Oh?" Briarus asked. "So it wasn't you two who started a fight in the tavern that resulted in several injuries, the destruction of much of the tavern furnishings and the loss of," he paused to consult the parchment, "a large quantity of wine, several shop awnings and a goat?"

Thrasilaus leant towards Tydeus.

"What happened to the goat?" he asked with genuine perplexion.

"Antipatris needed a snack," Tydeus murmured as if that explained everything. He turned back to his officer and attempted to straighten. "It was sort of us, Sir," he said.

"But it really wasn't our fault," Thrasilaus added.

"Do tell," Briarus asked with false reasonableness.

"You see Sir… we were off duty last night and went to the tavern for a few drinks and a round of dice," Tydeus said. "Thrasilaus ended up betting against Bardus the butcher's son… only then we realised that Bardus was cheating and Thrasilaus may have ended up calling him a miserable little sneak and a thief and he didn't take it too well."

Briarus raised an eyebrow.

"Yes I can see that," he said. Then he took a deep breath. "Do you two idiots have _any_ idea what you have done?" he roared. "What you have caused? We are in a state of war and the last thing we need right now is civil unrest because you decide to go out drinking and upset most of the town with your antics."

"Sir," Thrasilaus began.

"Military regulations are clear," Briarus went on, completely ignoring the fact that the other man had spoken, "and I have no choice but to follow them. By rights I should have you thrown out of the army and sent back to Atlantis in chains to face the judgement of General Dion… but as the city is under siege that is not possible and I am unwilling to lose two of my most senior soldiers over such a petty matter. Make no mistake gentlemen that this is not a reprieve, however. By the time I am finished with the two of you, you will wish that you had never even heard of the tavern."

"Sir," Tydeus tried. "Please accept our apologies. Bardus made some nasty remarks about our army and we felt that we had to defend our honour."

"Your apologies are noted, Tydeus," Briarus said. "But it will not alter your fates. I will not have my men acting like a common rabble. I should order you to be flogged but as you _may_ be needed in the near future I will postpone that for now… but be in no doubt that if you so much as breathe without my permission I will have you put to the lash without another moment's hesitation."

The two soldiers breathed a silent sigh of relief. They knew (had always known to be honest) that their officer's bark was so much worse than his bite but there was still the danger that he would be compelled to follow regulations to the letter. The knowledge that a flogging was not in their immediate futures therefore came as something of a relief.

"The two of you will be confined to your quarters until further notice but it will hardly matter… you will be too busy to notice. For the next month you will be on punishment duties. If it needs repairing you will be the ones to repair it; if it needs cleaning you will be the ones to clean it. I expect to see this garrison sparkling. You will report to the master of supplies for a list of your duties first thing in the morning and I do not intend to give you an easy time. You…"

A knock at the door interrupted him. Briarus frowned deeply.

"Come," he barked.

It was the guard he had sent earlier to fetch Thrasilaus and Tydeus.

"I am sorry to disturb you Sir," he said respectfully, "but a messenger has arrived baring orders with the seal of the King."

Briarus straightened in his seat, pulling his tunic into place properly and tidying the parchments on his desk.

"Send him in at once," he ordered. He turned slightly to cast a sour look at his two subordinates. "It would appear that you have had a temporary reprieve," he remarked. "We will continue this discussion later. For now I believe that the latrines require cleaning and the cess pit needs emptying."

He did not miss the way both men winced. Cleaning out the latrines and the cess pit were two of the most reviled duties in the garrison – which was, of course, precisely why he had assigned them to it.

The man who entered as the chastened duo filed out was young. Dressed in the tunic and breastplate of an Atlantian soldier, he appeared travel stained and weary. Briarus was not by nature an unkind man and as the young soldier banged his fist against his breastplate in a salute he gestured for the man to sit down.

"You have orders for me?" he asked.

The young soldier went to jump up from his seat again, immediately proffering a parchment.

"Sit down for goodness sake," Briarus snapped, standing and coming around the table to take the orders for himself. "You look like your journey has been a hard one."

"It has Sir," the young soldier said.

"Then rest now while you can," Briarus said. "What is your name?" he added as he returned to his desk and began to open the document.

"Asopus Sir."

Briarus allowed a smile to touch his face, transforming him from stern to genial in a moment.

"You have fulfilled your duty commendably Asopus," he remarked, "and I will ensure that my report to General Dion reflects this."

He began to skim the orders as he spoke. Suddenly he froze and swore, staring up at Asopus with horrified eyes.

"This must be a hoax," he growled.

"I would that it were Sir," Asopus said firmly. "I left the King and General Dion not three days since. The General urges you to make haste. His Majesty has urgent need of you and your men."

Briarus skimmed the parchment once more, taking particular note of the seal at the bottom. This was no hoax it appeared – no matter how much he might wish to believe that it were. With swift movements he crossed to the door and jerked it open, demanding that the startled guard send for his deputy and four of his most trusted men. Then he turned back to the weary Asopus.

"You will undoubtedly be keen to return to His Majesty," he said, "but for now quarters will be found for you. I suggest you take advantage of them until the garrison is ready to depart. I would expect that to be around dusk so you will have the day to rest and eat a good hot meal. A horse will be provided to aid your journey."

"You have my thanks Sir," Asopus said gratefully. "I am ordered by General Dion to return with news from Kantonum as soon as the King's orders were delivered."

"I understand that you have further copies of these orders," Briarus stated, gesturing towards the document, "and that I am to ensure that these are delivered to other garrisons."

"Yes Sir," the young soldier answered. "Two of my comrades have been sent to Mallena and Ephitake with the same orders."

"Very good," Briarus answered, looking hard at a map that he now unrolled on his desk.

Silence blossomed in the room as the garrison commander considered his orders and the best way to fulfil them. It was broken by the arrival of the men Briarus had sent for.

"Ah," Briarus said as they filed in. "Good. We have received new orders. The garrison is to be made ready to march this very day. Atlantis… the city itself that is… has fallen to our enemies. The King and General Dion have escaped and have bid us to join them as quickly as we may. The King is gathering an army to take back the city and we are to be a part of that. You have all, I know, longed for action and it appears that now you are to get your chance. We will leave at dusk and travel in small units, avoiding any enemy patrols wherever possible. You four," he looked at the four soldiers he had sent for, "are to take orders to Sybena, Lisope, Hybetra and Taramea. Bid the garrisons to join us as soon as may be." He looked at Asopus. "I would have those extra copies now," he declared.

"At once Sir," Asopus said, retrieving the orders from about his person and handing them to the commander.

"Very good," Briarus said. "Tell His Majesty that we are coming," he instructed Asopus. "The garrison of Kantonum stands ready to serve. We are going to war."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N And here we go with chapter 7! Slightly later than intended but I'm afraid that real life has been intruding somewhat lately and time and inspiration have been in short supply as a result. Thank you to everyone that is still reading and especial thanks to everyone that is still reviewing... it still means a lot to me that you take the time and trouble to jot down a few words and it does encourage me in my writing.

As ever I own nothing although I rather wish I did since I wouldn't have been as daft as the BBC and cancelled Atlantis! Please let me know what you think of the chapter.

* * *

For the first time in days Pasiphae found herself both awake and completely alone. Now that she was finally able to keep her eyes open for more than a few minutes it seemed that her husband and companions were conspiring to ensure that there was someone to hand at all times to cater to her every whim or desire and keep her tethered to this dratted bed. The only person who she had not been able to have any time alone with was her son. It felt as though Jason was avoiding her; a thought which made Pasiphae uneasy. Their relationship had apparently been progressing so well. What could be making him draw back now?

Perhaps it was not a matter of him drawing back though; perhaps it was simply a matter of timing. There had been precious little time since Jason had joined them at the cave near the sacred grove at Dodona for them to speak to one another. Thanks to her husband she was now aware that Jason had been injured in the escape from the Temple. The thought made her frown. It should not have been Minos telling her that; it should have been Jason himself. She would have to speak firmly to him about the matter as soon as she had leisure. If the silly boy was going to let himself get hurt then it was her right as his mother to know about it and his duty as her son to tell her.

Had her own health been a little better she would have sought Jason out days ago to discuss the matter fully with him and to ensure that he was well aware that hiding injuries from her was not something that Pasiphae would tolerate. She also owed him a discussion about his activities on the night before the city fell; a discussion that was by now long overdue. Her injury, however, had incapacitated her far more than she was comfortable with.

Still, she was awake now and feeling relatively alright – all things considered. Pythagoras had mentioned during his examination earlier that perhaps she might be well enough to begin to sit up and get out of bed and as far as Pasiphae was concerned there was no time like the present.

Levering herself into a sitting position took far more effort than Pasiphae was expecting. She was nothing if not persistent, however, and was not about to let a little thing like illness or injury stop her from doing exactly what she wanted. Resolutely ignoring the stab of pain from the arrow wound in her abdomen – the tender flesh pulling tightly – she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and paused for a moment to regain her equilibrium.

"I'm not really sure you should be doing that." The amused voice made her turn to face her son.

Jason was leaning lightly against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes dancing with laughter.

Pasiphae frowned. What was so funny about her getting out of bed? Before she could give voice to her thoughts, however, the young man was across the room and sitting down alongside her.

"You know if I got out of bed like that when I wasn't supposed to everyone would have a fit," he said lightly.

"What do you mean _if_ you got out of bed?" Pasiphae said. "I seem to recall an incident not two weeks ago when I believed you to be resting and you had in fact taken yourself off to the gardens."

"I was only getting some fresh air," Jason protested. "It didn't do me any harm." He gave his mother a lopsided smile. "The point I'm trying to make," he said, "is that we're more alike than I would have imagined."

"Yes," Pasiphae agreed.

"Is there any chance that you'll take that into consideration next time I do something that you don't like?" Jason asked hopefully.

Pasiphae smiled.

"None whatsoever," she said, unable to stop the amusement from lighting up her eyes.

Jason chuckled.

"Well you can't blame me for trying," he said brightly.

"Not that I am not pleased to spend a little time with you," Pasiphae said, "but weren't you helping Ariadne and your abominably clever friend collect more firewood?"

Jason rolled his eyes.

"Yes," he answered. "The wind started to pick up though so Pythagoras decided that it was getting too cold for me to be outside."

Pasiphae nodded absently, regarding her son appraisingly. In spite of her own ill health she had been aware that Jason was less than well when they arrived at the hunting lodge. For the first two days after their arrival he had been lightly feverish and out of sorts – nothing serious enough to keep him in bed, but still feeling poorly – and plagued by a persistent wet cough. In the couple of days that had followed he had brightened up considerably; the rest and warm comfort of the hunting lodge doing their work to help him heal. It was true that the hacking cough still bothered him, especially at night, and the rest of the party knew only too well that he was sitting up when he should have been sleeping, trying futilely to smother the coughing fits and avoid keeping anyone else awake.

Still, right at this moment Jason looked better than he had at any moment since they had reunited in the cave. He had lost the pallor of the last few days and in fact the wind had blown some colour into his cheeks, as well as ruffling his curls into wild disorder – although Pasiphae did have to admit that it would be more unusual to see her son with neat hair.

"Besides," Jason continued looking down at his hands awkwardly, "I thought… that is… we haven't had the chance to talk properly since the night the Amphigeneians got into the city." He looked back up at his mother. "I wanted to say sorry," he added quietly.

Pasiphae frowned.

"For what?" she asked sharply.

"For everything," Jason answered. "I shouldn't have run off from the Temple like I did. My only excuse is that I wasn't really thinking straight at the time; wasn't quite focussing properly… I was upset and that tends to throw me off a bit. The night when we fought the slavers I'd promised Amathea I'd protect her… had promised them all… and I couldn't see beyond that. I spoke with the King the other day and he told me what had happened after I left; how upset you'd been," he swallowed hard and looked his mother in the eyes. "I'm sorry. I never meant to worry anyone. I'll try not to do it again."

Pasiphae looked hard at him with raised eyebrows, taking in how sincere the boy looked.

"Apology accepted," she said briskly. "But see that it does not happen again. You were instructed to remain within the Temple and that is where you should have stayed. I will not accept wilful disobedience. We will let the matter pass on this occasion but do not presume to try my patience again." Pasiphae looked at Jason again and her eyes softened. "I do not mean to seem harsh," she added more gently. "I do not like to be frightened and you did frighten me. I could not help but imagine what might happen. You do not know what it is like to be a parent who has lost their child; to know that they have been taken from you forever. I have lived through that desolation once and I have no wish to do so again."

"I know what it is like to search for someone that you love and not find them," Jason answered earnestly. "To believe that you are never going to see them again."

"Yes," Pasiphae said softly. "I suppose you would know that." She shook herself. "Enough of this," she proclaimed. "I have no desire to become _emotional_." She managed to make the word sound distasteful. "I am going to get up and sit over there," she stated, pointing towards the window where bright sunshine was streaming in. "I wish to see the daylight. I have been too long in the dark."

Jason shifted uneasily.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," he said quietly. "I don't think that Pythagoras would be too happy with you getting out of bed."

"I am Queen of Atlantis," Pasiphae snapped. "I am not about to allow my actions to be dictated by a peasant, no matter how clever or how talented a healer he might be. Besides which your friend informed me this morning that he believed I was well enough to begin to get up."

"I'm fairly certain he didn't mean for you to get up when you were on your own though," Jason objected.

"But I am not on my own," Pasiphae said sharply. "You are with me."

Jason smiled wryly.

"I'm not altogether sure that I count at the moment," he answered.

"Because you are injured you mean?" Pasiphae said. She shot another hard look at Jason. "That is something else which we need to discuss. I should not have had to learn from someone else that my son was hurt."

Jason sighed.

"I hardly think the King is an outsider," he pointed out. "You _are_ married to him… but you're right. I should have told you myself… I meant to tell you but with everything that's happened time got away from me a bit."

"I will not tolerate you concealing injuries from me," Pasiphae snapped, "and I have _still_ not been told precisely how you have managed to damage yourself. Minos merely informed me that you had picked up a minor injury that was being treated and that you would explain fully."

"I wasn't deliberately concealing anything," Jason protested quietly. He sighed again. "I re-broke the ribs that I'd already damaged," he admitted. "It was in the fight at the Temple. One of the Amphigeneian soldiers got a pretty good kick in. The King is right. It's not serious… just a bit painful. I was going to tell you but when I got to the cave everyone was telling me how worried you'd been and how you needed to concentrate on your own recovery. I was really tired when we got there and aching and I suppose I didn't think things through. All I really wanted to do that night was to sleep. I didn't want to worry you any more than you already were. I sort of thought that it would be better if I let Pythagoras fix me up a bit before I told you… so that I could tell you that I _had_ been hurt but that I was getting better already. Only time sort of got away from us and I never got the chance to talk to you on my own… to explain everything that had been going on."

"I accept that perhaps you did not inform me that you were hurt out of some misguided desire to protect me," Pasiphae said. "But you would do well to remember that I am your mother and I had a right to know the truth."

Jason bristled. _Don't bite back_ , he sternly told himself; _don't lose your temper._ It irritated him though. After all it was his body and no-one else's. Why couldn't Pasiphae understand that he was a fully grown man with the right to privacy? Yes she was his mother but that didn't give her the right to know every little thing about him or to be aggrieved if he chose not to tell her something. Not that he had kept this from her deliberately; it was more an omission through circumstance than a deliberate choice.

"You think I am being unreasonable," Pasiphae stated, watching the play of emotions across her son's face.

"No," Jason answered shortly.

Pasiphae snorted.

"You are not a good liar," she said.

"So I've been told," Jason responded.

"What is it that you find so distasteful in what I am saying?" the Queen demanded.

Jason sighed.

"You do know that I'm an adult don't you?" he asked.

"I am only too aware of exactly how old you are," Pasiphae bit back. "Although I scarcely think that you act your age most of the time." Her eyes softened and grew distant. "It is not easy," she admitted. "In my mind you are the child that I lost; a boy scarcely more than a baby. It is hard to reconcile the child that I knew with the man that you are."

"I do understand," Jason answered. "I know that I'm not the child you remember… that I'm not exactly who you want me to be… and I know that it must be hard for you to get used to me being the way I am now. I know that you probably wish you could go back in time… that you want the chance to make up for a bit of what you missed out on… that you haven't really had chance to get used to the idea that I'm an adult… but the fact is that I am… and that means I get to make my own decisions and that if I don't tell you something then that's my choice…"

"Jason," Pasiphae began, her eyes flinty once more.

"The truth is that neither one of us can turn the clock back," Jason carried on as though she hadn't spoken. "I can't be the little boy that you want me to be and you can't be the mother that I needed growing up. I've been on my own for too long… it's been years since I was answerable to anyone but myself; since I had anyone trying to tell me what to do. The truth is that I don't need you to mother me or tell me what to do. I don't _need_ you to be my mother… but I do _want_ you to be."

Pasiphae looked down at her lap for a moment.

"You can have no idea how it feels to hear you say that you want me to be your mother," she said honestly. "It is something that I never dared believe would be possible… and you are wrong if you believe that you are not the son that I want. In many ways we are very similar… perhaps too much so. I know that you are no longer a child but you are still _my_ child; _my only child_ ; _my blood_. I look at you and I see so much of myself. Do you not feel it? The bond that binds us. We are tethered Jason. It is a cord that can never be broken. The Gods have brought us together; have given you back to me. Can you not see that it is only natural that I should be concerned for your wellbeing?"

"I can," Jason responded softly, "but I still think that there need to be some ground rules between us."

"Ground rules?" Pasiphae asked with a frown, uncertain of his meaning.

"Yes," her son said. "I know you think that it's my duty to do whatever you tell me, but I'm not always going to blindly follow orders. I'm not Heptarian. If we're going to have any sort of relationship… and believe me I _do_ want to… then we need some sort of understanding between us that we can both stick to. Otherwise this just won't work."

"I only have your best interests at heart," Pasiphae protested.

"I know you believe that," Jason said. "But there are going to be times when actually you don't know what's best for me… when the only person who can decide what I should do is me."

"I suspect we will disagree on this subject many times," Pasiphae said.

"Yes," Jason answered. "I've been told that I'm stubborn, wilful, outspoken and too independent for my own good."

Pasiphae allowed a small ripple of amusement to touch her features, quirking the corners of her mouth into a faint smile of agreement.

"I've also been described as pig-headed and nothing but trouble more times that I really care to think about," Jason went on, "but you're not so easy to get on with either. You're imperious, just as stubborn as I am and used to getting your own way in all things. I think it's almost a given that we'll butt heads on multiple occasions."

"Perhaps so," Pasiphae agreed. She hesitated for a moment. "I accept that there will be times when you will feel strongly about something and will believe that you have the right to make your own choices. Certainly you must choose your own path in life… although I hope you will allow that others might seek to guide you for your own good. There will also be times, however, when you will be expected to follow an instruction and as I have said I will not tolerate wilful disobedience… especially when there seems to be little reason for that disobedience beyond simple stubbornness."

"And if I disagree?"

"Then there would indeed be a problem. I would not advise refusing a direct order Jason… whether it is myself _or_ the King who gives it. You may find that it would have consequences you did not intend." Pasiphae's face had once more hardened.

Silence stretched over the room that neither mother nor son quite knew how to break. Pasiphae shook herself with some irritation. This was not the conversation she had intended to have with Jason. Whilst she had intended that he should understand that she was not to be trifled with, she did not mean for it to descend into an argument or that it should drive any sort of wedge between them.

"Come," she said, slowly and painfully pushing herself up from the bed. "I do not wish to argue. Help me to the window. I require some fresh air."

Even leaning on her son's arm the journey across the room was far more taxing than Pasiphae had imagined. Every step caused pain as the wound in her stomach throbbed and pulled; her muscles stiff and weakened through days of disuse. Pasiphae refused to give in to the weakness in her body, however; refused to allow any suffering to register on her face. She had never shown weakness before and she would not start now.

Alongside her she felt rather than heard her son snort faintly as he adjusted his grip on her, tightening his grasp on her waist to allow her to lean a little more heavily on him, although he did not comment. It was nice, Pasiphae decided, to have a strong arm to lean on, safe in the knowledge that he wouldn't let her fall and knowing somehow that he would not see her need as weakness.

As they reached the window and the low cupboard below it, the top set at just the right height for sitting on, Pasiphae gave a mental sigh of relief. With infinite care Jason lowered her to sit on the cupboard before trotting back across the room to fetch a blanket and pillows, having decided, it seemed, that he needed to do something to make his mother more comfortable. Pasiphae watched him go with an affectionate smile, touched by his unexpected concern; his thoughtfulness. Yet why should it be unexpected? She had seen the way he and his friends acted around one another; had borne witness to the concern that all three of them showed for each other's wellbeing. Why should it be such a leap to think that that same concern might be extended to her by her own son? She was not _such_ a monster was she that the very thought of her child caring for her was alien?

 _You know what you are_ , a hard cynical voice murmured within her own head. _You know what you have done and it is only a matter of time until he realises it too._

 _I did what I had to to survive_ , the other part of her protested.

 _Do you really think Jason will ever be able to forgive you for all you have done?_ the cynical voice went on. _He knows that you tried to kill him. He knows that you tried to kill his beloved Ariadne. He will never fully forgive you. Why would you even imagine that he might truly care? He will deceive you in the end; will betray you like all other men._

 _Jason would not do that_ , the mother in her countered. _He is not like that._

 _All people are like that_ , the cynical voice retorted cruelly. _You know that in the end all anyone seeks is satisfaction and that the only true satisfaction is to be found through the pursuit of power. Jason will learn that soon enough and when he does he will be no better than other men._

 _I will not allow that to happen_ , the mother in Pasiphae proclaimed. _He is too naïve but he is good and kind and loyal. I will not allow him to be corrupted by power._

 _As you were?_ The cynical voice sounded amused. It also sounded remarkably like Pasiphae's former husband – a thought which made her shudder. _Do you really think you can prevent it? He shares your blood; your weakness. The darkness is in him waiting to be awoken. When the time comes you will not be able to prevent him giving himself over to it in the same way that you did._

 _I will find a way_ , Pasiphae decided. _I will not allow him to lose himself._

She was shaken from her reveries by the feel of a stiff blanket being firmly tucked in around her legs. If Jason's hands were slightly rougher than they perhaps should have been (palms roughened and callused through manual labour and sword usage) Pasiphae barely registered it; noting only the gentle expression in his eyes and the look of deep concentration as he tried to make her as comfortable as possible.

"Thank you," she murmured but was unable to hide a wince as she leant forwards to allow him to place a pillow at her back.

Jason bit his lip, spotting the little flinch.

"I'm sorry," he apologised. "I'm afraid I'm not a skilled nurse."

"Do not concern yourself," Pasiphae answered. "I am not at present in any great discomfort."

She turned and looked out of the window, relishing the feel of the warm winter sun on her upturned face. Jason had wandered off to the far side of the room once more, busying himself with something near the fire. Presently he returned with two cups in his hands and, sitting down at the opposite end of the low cupboard from his mother, offered her one of the cups.

"Warm spiced wine," he said in answer to her quizzical look. "Pythagoras prepared a pan earlier and left it on the side to be warmed up when it was wanted."

Pasiphae took the cup with a faint frown.

"How is it that we come to have wine?" she asked.

Jason grinned.

"We hid a couple of flagons last time we visited," he admitted. "Otherwise Hercules would have drunk them on the spot. Pythagoras thought we might need them at some point if the weather became bad while we were hunting and we needed warming up."

Pasiphae took a long sip of the wine, gratified that it was not as poor quality as she would have expected given the social status of her son's friends. The heat of the liquid seemed to warm her from the inside out, leaving her feeling more mellow and amiable than usual. With a contented sigh she relaxed and allowed her eyes to drift to the view from the window once more, enjoying Jason's silent companionship.

"Pasiphae?" Jason's voice was soft and faintly hesitant as it broke the silence a few minutes later.

"Yes?" the Queen responded absently, still drinking in the view of the world outside the window.

"Are you really a witch?"

Pasiphae couldn't help the faint gasp that escaped her as she whipped her head around to face her son. Of all the questions he could have asked that one had been completely unexpected.

"That is not a word of which I am particularly fond," she answered sharply.

Jason flushed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"And you have not," Pasiphae retorted. "But why do you ask that question?"

Jason hesitated for a moment.

"Months ago, when we were in the bull court, you and Heptarian came to watch a practice session. I can remember telling Pythagoras that it was as though your eyes burned right through me and he told me that there had long been rumours in the city that you practiced witchcraft. I had never known that such a thing was possible before but with everything that happened afterwards I presumed he must have been right. Only I could never be completely certain and I suppose I just wondered…"

"If it were true?" Pasiphae finished for him. She sighed. "I am a woman of Colchis," she said softly. "By the very nature of my birth I am a woman of power beyond the understanding of mortal men."

"Because you are touched by the Gods?"

"That is indeed a part of it. At my birth I was blessed by Hecate."

"The Goddess of witchcraft?"

"Indeed. Although Hecate is far more than simply the Goddess of witchcraft," Pasiphae answered. "In answer to your question though, in the eyes of mortal men I am indeed a witch of Colchis… although I would ask that you do not use that phrase. It is a term used by the ignorant to explain that which they do not understand. I find it distasteful and given that Minos has an antipathy towards anything he deems to be witchcraft it would be unwise to mention such a thing… But my bloodline – your bloodline – is a powerful one and contains many individuals with unique abilities. Seers and practitioners of what the uneducated call magic."

"So do you have these powers because you're from Colchis?" Jason asked.

"In part," Pasiphae answered. "Yet there are many from Colchis who do not have these abilities. Indeed there are many within my own family who are not blessed in this way... and those who have been granted abilities differ one from another."

"How so?" Jason asked.

Pasiphae smiled faintly.

"Just as one person might be more intelligent than another or stronger, so those of us who have this sort of power may be different from each other. For instance one may be able to channel the powers of nature, another might practice the more… shall we say… _dark_ arts and a third might be exceptionally fast or agile." She levelled a serious look at her son. "I had intended that you would learn about your heritage when we had more time. It is important to me that you learn about your family; that you know your place in this world."

Jason rolled his eyes.

"Everyone keeps trying to remind me that I'm a prince of Atlantis," he said sharply. "Even if I don't really feel like one."

"Nevertheless it is true," Pasiphae retorted. "Yet you are not just the son of a king – even if Aeson is a deposed king. You are also the nephew of a king. You were born as a prince of Atlantis… but by virtue of _my_ birth you are also a prince of Colchis… and I would have you learn about my family as well as your father's… and about the different forms of power that we wield." She favoured Jason with another serious and speculative look. "I do not believe that you have asked about this out of idle curiosity, however. What was your true purpose?"

"I told you. I was just wondering."

"Indeed? It is a very specific subject for you to be wondering about."

Jason looked away from Pasiphae for a moment.

"Before Anaxandros took the city… the night before I met the King's advisors for the first time… I met with the Oracle," he admitted. "She told me that I was touched by the Gods as you are. She told me that it meant that I'd been blessed by the Gods when I was born… but I still don't really know what that means for me…I wasn't quite clear whether it was something that I'd inherited off you and I suppose I thought that if I understood a bit more about what being touched by the Gods meant for you…"

"You would understand what it would mean for you?" Pasiphae concluded. She sighed affectionately and stroked the young man's hand. "What is means is that you are very special Jason," she said softly. "You are not like other men; not like mere mortal men. You are already aware, I think, that there are things that you can do that others cannot and that certain curses do not affect you; that certain forms of magic do not touch you in the way that they would touch another."

"Like being able to look at a gorgon and not be turned to stone?" Jason asked.

Pasiphae frowned.

"How have you come into contact with a gorgon?" she demanded. Then she held up one hand, palm towards him. "Actually I do not believe that I wish to know." She glared at her son. "You will, however, endeavour to avoid such contacts in the future. You may be impervious to the gorgon's gaze but it is not an area in which I would suggest you should experiment."

Jason looked away again.

"I have dreams sometimes," he blurted suddenly.

"What sort of dreams?" Pasiphae asked kindly. She was fairly certain that she had been right in her suspicions about her son's awakening abilities and knew only too well that he would need her to be gentle; that a little patience with him now might pay dividends in the long run.

"Odd dreams," Jason answered softly. "Strange images. I see the people and the places that I know but the situations aren't like anything I've seen… and sometimes it feels like those dreams are coming true later. Something will happen and it's as though I've seen it before; as though I've dreamt about it." He shook himself suddenly. "I'm being ridiculous," he muttered. "It sounds childish now that I'm thinking about it. Just forget I said anything."

"Jason," Pasiphae began.

The door banged open suddenly, startling them both. Pasiphae watched Jason's face change – his defensive walls slamming back up into place – and mentally cursed in frustration. She had been so close to getting him to open up before the interruption; so close to the point where she could, with the assistance of the Oracle, begin to reconcile him to his abilities and teach him to control them before they began to control him. The intrusion of another person was therefore unwelcome.

It was doubly unwelcome when she discovered it was Hercules who had interrupted them. The burly wrestler came barrelling into the room with a small collection of pheasants hanging from one meaty fist. He dropped them down onto the table and turned towards the fire with a distinct shiver, apparently completely oblivious to the death glare Pasiphae was sending in his direction.

"It's getting cold out there," he noted with his hands outstretched towards the blaze.

"Jason," Pasiphae tried again, keeping her voice pitched low so that Hercules couldn't hear what she was saying.

"I was being silly," Jason murmured. "Forget it." He pushed himself up from his seat and caught hold of his mother's hand briefly, before heading over towards the fire. Catching up his cloak, he settled it around his shoulders.

Hercules blinked at him, finally catching the atmosphere in the room.

"I'm not interrupting anything am I?" he asked.

"No," Jason answered. "We were just talking. I'll…erm… just go and check where Pythagoras has got to with the firewood. See if we can get it a bit warmer in here for everyone coming in."

Without another word he slipped out through the door, already withdrawing into himself, apparently deep in thought.

Pasiphae turned stiffly and glared out of the window, completely ignoring the presence of the burly wrestler in the room.

"Was it something I said?" Hercules asked incredulously, looking at the Queen's rigid posture then turning to stare at the door his friend had just stalked out of. In the suddenly awkward silence he shrugged and turned back to his pheasants, preparing to pluck them and get them ready for the pot and the evening meal.

* * *

The journey to Pagenia had been a hard one even with the horses that Nisos had managed to acquire from his brother. He had ridden back to the hunting lodge several days ago now towing three horses behind him. That had at least allowed the King, Queen and Princess to be mounted when they moved on. The fourth horse had by mutual agreement gone to the Oracle; although she had hidden reserves of strength her importance to Atlantis meant that it was inconceivable that she should not be spared as much hardship as possible.

The arrival of Asopus the next morning, returning from Ephitake with confirmation of the garrison's loyalty and the news that they would be coming to Pagenia as quickly as they could manage, had been welcome – especially as it had added an extra horse to the group. They had lingered at the hunting lodge for another two days, hoping both to allow the Queen to gain additional strength and for the other messengers to re-join them. Eventually, though, Dion had deemed it too risky to wait any longer and they had been forced to prepare to leave.

Minos frowned as he thought about the scene that had followed. His every instinct had demanded that the fifth horse be given to his stepson. The boy was a prince and his rank called for no less. In addition Jason might be rapidly recovering from the brief illness that had troubled him on their arrival at the hunting lodge and might no longer appear to be in constant nagging pain from the broken ribs, but the King deemed it wisest not to tempt fate. Here though he had been thwarted by Jason's own obstinacy. The lad simply would not accept that his parentage afforded him any privilege and had insisted that the remaining members of the party should take turns at riding the remaining horse to allow them all a rest from time to time.

Minos' frown deepened. Much as he applauded his stepson's sense of duty towards his companions he was not used to having his orders refused or his word questioned. Fond as he was becoming of the lad, Jason's habit of speaking his mind at odd moments was one which must be nipped in the bud as soon as the King had the opportunity and time to address it. Minos was only glad that Pasiphae had been resting in preparation for the journey at the time and had not witnessed her son's disobedience; the King was coldly certain that she would not have accepted it under any circumstances and neither the timing nor the situation (in front of Jason's friends and several members of the army) were appropriate for dealing with the boy. The King himself had not deemed it to be worth arguing with the lad or laying down the law on this occasion. There would come a time when he would require Jason's cooperation and unquestioning obedience – his loyalty – so it was perhaps best not to make the young man resent him now.

They had travelled slowly through the woods and across the plains in deference to Pasiphae's injuries, always alert to the danger of discovery by Amphigeneian troops and steering clear of any settlements wherever possible. The further they travelled from the city of Atlantis itself the less the chances of running into enemy forces, and yet none of them could quite relax. The journey had seemed to take forever; as though they were creeping along at a snail's pace. Slowly though the mountains in the distance had crept inexorably closer until at last they were in the foothills, skirting the base of the mountains and seeking whatever cover they could in the barren landscape.

The Queen had borne the journey with her customary reserve and stoicism. If she were in any discomfort she was certainly not about to let anyone know it. She could not hide how pale and drawn her face was though and in spite of her rigid carriage there was a weary slump to her shoulders. There were limits, it seemed, to how far even Pasiphae's iron will would carry her.

It was a relief then when they crested the top of one final rise and saw the sheltered bay of Pagenia lying ahead of them, the town nestling between the hills and the shore. The sea was deceptively calm; a vibrant blue that caught the eye and drew attention. For once the day was fine and bright, and the winter sun sparkled on the still waters.

Minos allowed himself a faint smile. It was years since he had visited Pagenia – although a royal estate was maintained here, which made Dion's choice of the town as a base from which to build their forces doubly fortuitous. At least it would mean that his wife and daughter could be housed in comfort – although it wouldn't be _quite_ as luxurious as they were used to in the Palace back in Atlantis. It would still be better than sleeping in a cave, however, or even sleeping on the floor of a hunting lodge (even if they _had_ made relatively comfortable beds out of straw).

"Come," he said to his companions, "the royal estate is on the far side of the town. We are still some miles away and I would like to reach the comforts of my own property before dusk."

"Royal estate?" he heard Jason murmur behind him.

"It is part farm, part administrative centre," Melas answered equally quietly. "Such estates are set up throughout the kingdom to provide both additional revenue for the royal household and specific goods for the royal table. For example one estate will specialise in wine production, another may produce olives, and so on. The larger estates also have a large dwelling so that the King or any member of his family will have a suitable place to stay should they ever choose to visit. It is of course rare for a member of the Court to visit one of the royal estates but they are kept in readiness just in case."

Minos heard his stepson murmur his understanding before spurring his horse onwards, moving slowly enough that those of the group who were on foot would be able to keep up but quickly enough to give them the idea that they ought to keep moving.

Coming down off the rise they passed through row upon row of vines, clinging to the hillside and tended carefully, the south facing slopes providing perfect growing conditions. The vineyard seemed to go on for miles, although the fact that the travellers were taking a diagonal course across the fields added to this impression.

Finally though the journey was at an end. Rearing up ahead of them was a large, low roofed house, built on three sides of a central courtyard and surrounded by walls. They passed through a high arched gateway in the perimeter wall coming to a stop in the central courtyard as a harried looking official came out to meet them, stopping in shock as he recognised his King, his himation lopsided as though he had pulled it on in a hurry.

"Y-your Majesty!" he stammered. "Forgive me. I had not received news of your impending arrival."

Minos raised an eyebrow.

"Do not be overly concerned," he answered briskly. "I sent no word. Our journey has been undertaken with both speed and secrecy. I do not know how much you are aware of the recent events which have overtaken the kingdom." He looked expectantly at the official.

The other man swallowed hard.

"W-we have heard some outlandish rumours My Lord," he answered hesitantly. "It is said in the town that Atlantis has been invaded by Amphigeneia and that the city itself is under siege."

"I assure you that the rumours are true," Minos answered. "You have seen none of the enemy in Pagenia then?"

"No My Lord. The town is small and out of the way; easily overlooked. We live quietly here and have seen no evidence of any foreign troops in the countryside nearby."

"That is all to the good," Minos murmured. He fixed the official with a hawk-like stare. "Tell me," he demanded, "is Pagenia loyal to the throne?"

"Of course Your Majesty," the official protested. "We have been utterly loyal to you ever since the happy day when you came to the throne." He hesitated. "Pagenia is not an important town," he admitted. "We are not at the centre of society as it were. As a rule the townsfolk tend to be old fashioned; reserved. Those with more radical ideas or who are discontented in any way tend to leave our small town for larger and more exciting settlements. We are, however, honoured by the presence of this estate and will be even more honoured by the presence of Your Majesty – for many of the townsfolk it will be the ultimate accolade. We are loyal and will remain so."

"Good," the King stated. "What is your name?"

"Alexarchos," came the reply. "I am Your Majesty's chief overseer in Pagenia. It is my duty and my honour to see to the smooth running of this estate and look after your interests here My Lord. I have held my post for the last ten years. I still remember the ceremony of my appointment in the city of Atlantis itself and treasure the document confirming my position that Your Majesty gave me. It is how I knew you at once My Lord."

"Very good," Minos answered. "We will be remaining here at Pagenia for the foreseeable future." He sighed. "The city of Atlantis has fallen," he admitted, "but plans are afoot to allow us to regain our rightful place. We will be using Pagenia as a base and will be gathering our loyal forces and allies here prior to reclaiming the city." Minos glanced about at his travelling companions. "Suitable lodging will be found for our travelling companions," he instructed. "As you can see the Oracle of Poseidon and the High Priest have travelled with us. I will expect that every courtesy be paid and attention be given to their every comfort."

"Of course My Lord," Alexarchos murmured.

"The Queen was injured some days ago," Minos went on. "Her quarters must be made available as quickly as possible and I would have them made as comfortable as possible. Equally I would wish that my daughter's rooms were prepared with all speed. The journey we have made has been a taxing one and I believe that we would all wish for rest."

"At once Your Majesty," Alexarchos responded. He clapped his hands briskly to summon several lower ranking servants and set about giving them crisp and clear orders. Once they had been despatched to their duties he turned back to the King. "Everything will be as you wish My Lord," he said. Then he glanced at Jason and his friends with barely concealed disdain, taking in the quality of their clothing and instantly judging their social status from there. "I will arrange for space to be found in the servant's quarters for your retainers," he added.

Minos followed his look with a frown.

"The young man with the dark hair is of noble birth," he said sharply, "and must be afforded every courtesy. You will treat him with respect. The men with him are his companions. He is to be found rooms in the guest quarters and I wish for his companions to be quartered as closely by as possible."

Alexarchos swallowed hard again.

"Y-yes My Lord," he said. "I will see that it is done."

Minos' eyes narrowed.

"See that it is," he retorted frostily. "As I have said our journey has been a long and arduous one and I believe that refreshment is in order. Once the quarters are prepared see to it that warm water for washing and fresh clothes are provided… and I believe that a hot meal is necessary. In addition I will expect fresh bandages to be provided for the Queen and such healing herbs and remedies as are requested by those looking after her."

"And will you also be requiring the services of a healer?" Alexarchos asked.

"At present no," Minos answered. He glanced across to where Pythagoras was standing with a faint smile. "One of our company has proved to be a talented practitioner of medicine. He has been treating the Queen most successfully under the circumstances. The Oracle has also been playing her part and between them I believe that Her Majesty is in good hands. I will of course inform you if that should change and I should require you to obtain the services of a different doctor." He swung down from the back of the horse he had been riding. "The horses will require stabling," he added. "See to it."

As Minos was finishing this exchange with his overseer, Jason crossed to his mother's side and looked up at where she was sitting astride a grey horse. Pasiphae looked every inch the Queen in spite of her odd clothing. Despite this he knew that the wound in her stomach would make dismounting difficult – as it had every day since they had left the hunting lodge. To Pasiphae's chagrin she required help to mount and dismount her horse – a weakness that she hated.

Jason smiled encouragingly.

"Listen," he said, his voice so quiet that it did not carry any further than Pasiphae, "I know you don't want my help but I don't think there's all that much choice to be honest. Would you rather fall and have _them_ see it?" He glanced towards the doors of the house where a group of servants were hurrying out to see to the horses and to the wellbeing of their royal masters.

Pasiphae followed his look with narrowed and hardened eyes – the only outward sign she gave of her displeasure. Slowly, painfully slowly, she swung her leg over the side of the horse until she was sitting side saddle and, trusting that Jason would not let her fall in public, slipped from her seat towards the ground below.

Jason forced himself to look as serious as possible for the sake of the Queen's dignity. As swiftly as she slipped down from the horse's back he reached out and caught her, hands resting lightly at her waist as she used him to regain her balance and as a prop until the momentary wave of pain and light-headedness that overcame her on dismounting passed. Not that she allowed any of how she was feeling to register on her face, of course – Pasiphae had played the game of power and politics for far too long to allow anyone to see weakness in her.

For his part Jason stifled a gasp as his ribs pulled painfully. He was undoubtedly healing and no longer felt a constant throbbing from his sore side but the occasional twinge when he moved a certain way or too suddenly reminded him that he was by no means fully healed yet. Perhaps it had not been the best idea for him to be the one to help Pasiphae but he was willing to bet that she would never have accepted help from most of their travelling party while they were in a public place; she simply would not have allowed Hercules or one of the soldiers to have laid a hand on her for instance.

With one hand firmly planted in the small of his mother's back and his shoulder tucked behind hers so that she could surreptitiously lean on him if necessary, they made their way slowly across the small courtyard to Minos' side. It at least allowed the Queen an illusion of independence and she walked with her back straight and head held high, appearing to glide as seamlessly as ever. Minos couldn't help the little surge of pride he felt as he watched her. Gods but Pasiphae was magnificent; even in the midst of pain and suffering the fortitude with which she held herself together and the way she could give the impression of grace and power were incredible.

As the Queen drew up to her husband Alexarchos stepped forwards and bowed low.

"My Lady," he said, his voice dripping with awe and a little fear. "We are humbled by your presence. I hope that you will find all to your liking in this house."

Pasiphae hummed noncommittally and smiled coldly.

"We shall see," she answered with an imperiously raised eyebrow.

Alexarchos swallowed hard yet again and gestured towards the doors.

"I-if you would care to follow me Your Majesty I would be honoured to show you to your quarters… which should have been prepared by now." His gaze wavered uncertainly between the King and Queen as though he were unsure who he should be addressing his remark to.

"Very well," Pasiphae answered, drawing the attention of the overseer back to herself. "You will arrange for a full inventory of the household stores and a copy of the household accounts to be brought to my chambers… and inform both the head cook and the servant in charge of organising the cleaning that I will require their presence as soon as I have had leisure to check the records. You will be there yourself also."

Alexarchos trembled slightly. Even in a town as far from the capital as Pagenia the Queen's fearsome reputation was known. For a moment he wished the ground would swallow him up.

"My Lady," he protested. "I am most careful and scrupulous in my keeping of the records and my care of His Majesty's property. I do not believe that there is any discrepancy in the accounts."

"I have not suggested that there is," Pasiphae snapped, glaring at the man. "If we are to remain here for any length of time, however, the ordering of the household will fall to me… as is my duty and _my_ _right_. You would do well to remember that _I_ am Queen and I will brook no impertinence from a mere servant."

Alexarchos' trembling increased.

"F-forgive me My Lady," he stammered. "I meant no impertinence. I will see that the accounts are delivered to your chambers at once."

"See that you do," Pasiphae answered sharply.

With one final severe look at Alexarchos she drew herself up to her full height and swept, as quickly as her injury would allow, into the house. Now was the time to begin to plan properly and to set in motion the strategy that would allow them to retake Atlantis.

* * *

The room which Ariadne had been led to was simply furnished and decorated; elegant and tasteful. A light breeze came in from the sea and teased the fine diaphanous drapes that hung at the window, designed to soften the sometimes harsh light that entered the chambers.

Ariadne crossed the floor to the window and stood, drinking in breaths of fresh sea air and looking out across the sheltered bay. The late afternoon sun sparkled across the blue ocean, dancing across the rippling waves. For a moment Ariadne allowed the beauty of the scene to penetrate her – to sink into her – glad that this house was set on the hillside above the town, allowing an uninterrupted view across the bay.

Then she turned towards the bed. A dress and sandals had already been laid out for her, although where they had come from the Princess did not know. It appeared that the servants were talented enough to rustle up almost anything at a moment's notice. Perhaps they had been borrowed from a lady of high rank in the town. It seemed the only likely explanation.

Ariadne looked down at herself and grimaced. She looked little like the perfect princess at the moment. Days of travel had left her looking and feeling grimy, the badly fitting male clothes she was wearing swamping her slender frame. Yet the tunic she was wearing still smelt of Jason and she found herself loathe to part with it, taking comfort from its familiar scent; inexplicably warmed inside by the feel of it against her skin and feeling closer to him than ever.

A sound at the door made the beautiful Princess look up suddenly. A young, female servant hovered anxiously in the doorway, a large steaming jug in her hands.

"I am here to help you to dress, My Lady," she said in a barely audible voice. "I have been assigned to be your maid while you are here."

Ariadne smiled welcomingly.

"Of course," she said kindly. "What is your name?"

"Rhea, Your Highness," the girl responded shyly. She looked impossibly young standing awkwardly by the door.

"Come in then Rhea," Ariadne said. "You have brought water for me to wash in?"

The girl nodded and began the process of preparing her new mistress. Ariadne submitted to her ministrations without comment. There was something comforting in the familiar rituals of bathing, she decided. Rhea stripped away the ruined sandals that had carried Ariadne so far from the Palace of Atlantis and began to undress the Princess, sponging down the delicate skin and gently drying her with a towel. The water turned brown and needed to be refreshed several times before Ariadne felt truly clean. Having washed and dried the Princess' lustrous black hair, Rhea slipped a soft silk petticoat over Ariadne's head and strewed poppy petals in a large metal dish, pouring warm water in on top of them and gently bathing her mistress' feet. Having plaited two thin braids into the Princess' hair, the serving girl drew them to the back of her head and fastened them, using them to hold back the wealth of dark hair. Then she began the process of making Ariadne up, painting a mixture of charcoal and olive oil along her lash line to make her eyes stand out and a concoction of ochre clays and beeswax on her lips. Finally she slipped the diaphanous blue dress that was laid out on the bed over the Princess' head, slid delicate sandals onto her feet and fastened a jewelled pin into her hair. Then she stood back and admired her handiwork. Ariadne, who had looked more like a beggar than a member of the Royal Family when Rhea had entered the room, now looked like the beautiful princess that she was. The servant nodded to herself in gratification.

"Thank you," Ariadne said softly.

"It is my duty My Lady," the young serving girl responded shyly, "and my privilege." She began to gather up the clothes she had removed from the Princess. "I will dispose of these," she stated.

"No," Ariadne said quickly and sharply. She moved over to the servant and plucked the tunic from her hands, leaving the rest of the garments with Rhea. "I will return this to its owner personally," she said firmly to the startled girl.

"As you wish My Lady," Rhea answered with some confusion. Clutching her bundle she excused herself from the Princess' presence and the room.

Ariadne sighed once the serving girl had gone and she was once more alone. What was she thinking of? It was hardly proper for her to keep a young man's tunic in her rooms and she hardly thought her father would understand or approve, and yet she found that she could not bear to part with it. By rights she should return it to Jason but somehow she could not bring herself to. Until the day when her father gave his permission for them to court she had to reconcile herself to the idea that Jason was her stepbrother and nothing more. Yet her heart demanded otherwise. At least the scent of the tunic gave her the illusion of his presence even when he was not there, although she hardly thought that sniffing an item of his clothing was a healthy activity… or one that would be approved of. She sighed again. No, she must give it back to Jason no matter how much she might wish otherwise. For now though she looked about herself for a place to hide it, safe from the prying eyes of the servants.

A diffident knock at the door startled her and sent her hurrying over to the perfectly made bed, thrusting the cloth out of sight under the pillow. There would be plenty of time later to give it back to Jason but for now she wished to avoid awkward speculation by being caught with it in her hands.

"Come in," she instructed.

Alexarchos stood in the doorway.

"Your Highness," he began. "Your father has instructed me to guide you to the dining room. He requires your presence for a meal."

"Of course," Ariadne responded. "If you would be so kind as to give me a few moments first I will be with you presently."

"Yes My Lady," the overseer answered unctuously, removing himself from the room once more.

Ariadne sighed and cast one last longing look at the pillow. It was easy to allow herself to drift into daydreams where she was just a simple girl free to choose whoever she wanted as a husband – had been even easier in these past days since their escape from Atlantis – and there was no doubt in her mind that left with a completely free choice she would choose Jason every time. Yet she was not a simple girl – was not free – and while there was a reasonable chance that her father might eventually allow her betrothal and marriage to his wife's son (especially given how fond he himself seemed to be becoming of the young man), such things were for the future and not for now. Now she needed to put dreams aside and become the Princess of Atlantis once more; now she had to prepare herself to help her father to protect the citizens of Atlantis and retake the city in whatever way he deemed suitable for her. Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, Ariadne prepared to face the future with her head held high.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N Okay so for a long time I thought that this chapter would be the shortest one of the story so far but actually it seems to have turned out to be the longest! I'm still not quite sure how that happened...

I hope you're all still reading and still enjoying this... please let me know if you are. I'm absolutely shameless in begging for reviews but I do worry sometimes. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time and trouble to review so far - I'm sorry if I haven't managed to respond personally.

As ever I own nothing. That pleasure belongs to the BBC - although they don't deserve it!

* * *

Jason hurried down a corridor, trying to straighten his tunic with one hand and tame his hair into some semblance of order with the other. He was late. Minos had sent a summons for dinner some time earlier and Jason felt that tardiness was something that the King would take a dim view of.

It was his own stupid fault of course. He had been shown to a set of chambers and then had to firmly chase away the servant who seemed to want to help him wash and dress. Jason didn't really understand why anyone would think he needed help in that way. After all he had been getting himself dressed since he was fairly young. Did people here really think that being born into a wealthy family (because he _did_ realise that his family was both rich and powerful – given who his mother and stepfather were it would have been almost impossible for him not to understand this) meant that a person automatically became incapable of doing anything for himself?

Having chased off the servant he had set about having a quick wash and brush up to remove the grime of travel, fully intending to investigate whether there was a proper bathhouse here in the morning. Somehow he had felt that washing with a bowl of water just wouldn't leave him feeling as clean as he would like and he had no intention of disturbing the servants and asking for a bath to be filled. They had been thrown out of their normal routine by the arrival of the King's party quite enough as it was and Jason wasn't willing to interrupt them anymore.

So a quick wash with the bowl provided it had been. What he hadn't intended, however, was to end up falling asleep on top of the bed. He'd sat down on the edge to finish dressing and it had just been so comfortable and inviting that he couldn't resist stretching out on it for a few minutes. He hadn't meant to actually take a nap; had told himself at the time that he was just going to relax a little after the long journey. Unfortunately it seemed that his body had had other ideas and as soon as he was horizontal his eyes had drifted shut of their own accord; the last couple of weeks of disturbed sleep finally catching up with him properly.

Jason had been woken up a short time later by an insistent knocking at the door. Logically he knew that he couldn't have been asleep for more than a few minutes but it was still enough to disconcert him, making his thoughts feel slow and heavy. Still, his good manners had overridden conscious thought and he had answered the door automatically, unable to leave someone waiting needlessly, without even considering the fact that he was still only partially clothed and that it might therefore not be appropriate.

The fact that it was the overseer, Alexarchos, on the other side was, with hindsight, something of a relief; at least he hadn't managed to embarrass one of the young serving girls he had passed in the corridor on the way to these chambers. Even so though, Alexarchos had looked at his less than clothed state with a faintly disapproving air, not saying anything more because a lifetime of service had conditioned him to studiously ignoring the foibles of those who were considered to be his social superiors – and he had after all been told directly by the King that this young man was of noble birth and to be treated as an honoured guest.

Jason had nevertheless found himself flushing with embarrassment and demanding (perhaps a little more sharply than he really intended) what the man wanted. The news that Minos had demanded his presence at the supper table was neither particularly surprising nor particularly welcome since Jason wasn't exactly presentable at that precise moment in time. Alexarchos explained that Pythagoras and Hercules had already been sent in the direction of the dining room. He gave Jason a brief description of where the room was to be found (which Jason only half listened to to be honest; more interested in finding where the tunic that had been laid out on the bed for him had gone since he seemed to have kicked it off in his impromptu nap) and then excused himself to go and fetch the Princess.

Having haphazardly pulled the tunic that had been provided over his head (and just how had it managed to end up behind the chair in the corner?) and tied his belt around his waist, Jason had set about trying to find his comb in his satchel – futilely as it happened. He _knew_ it was in here _somewhere_ ; had only used it this morning. No matter how much he scrabbled in the bag though it was eluding him. How could something disappear so easily and quickly as soon as he needed it? In frustration he had tipped out the bag on the floor and raked through the small pile of contents as quickly as he could but the comb wasn't there. Jason had spent more time than he should have regathering the contents and shoving them back in – unwilling to leave a mess on the floor for the servants – but he kept dropping things in his hurry. What was the saying? _More haste less speed?_ Finally everything was back inside and he kicked the bag back under the bed, raking his fingers through his hair in an attempt to use them as a comb.

Knowing that he was now running very late and that the King had probably been expecting him to arrive before now, Jason had hurried out into the corridor but had stopped almost immediately. Had Alexarchos said that he should go left or right to find the dining room? He wracked his brains but realised all too quickly that he just couldn't remember; hadn't really been paying attention to what he was told. There didn't seem to be anyone around who he could ask either; the servants all busy about their duties in different parts of the house. Well he would just have to find the room for himself. The house couldn't be _that_ big surely? Certainly nowhere near as big as the Palace in Atlantis. So, left or right then?

They had come from the left when they had arrived and, yes, Jason had been thinking more of getting his mother to somewhere where she could rest in comfort but he hadn't seen _anything_ that looked like a dining room on the way here. There had been a number of closed doors it was true, but surely Alexarchos would have pointed it out in passing if they had gone past it? With that thought in mind Jason had decided to try going to the right.

Which of course brought him to his current predicament: hurrying down the corridor while trying to make himself look vaguely presentable for dinner. None of the rooms he had peered into had looked anything like a dining room either; had all been bedrooms or living chambers. Jason grimaced to himself; Minos would not be pleased when he _finally_ got to the supper table.

Finally he stopped outside a door that seemed more ornate than those around it. This looked a bit more like it – and if it wasn't he would just have to admit defeat and find someone to ask. Taking a deep breath and tugging the hem of his tunic straight one last time he opened the door and stepped inside with far more outward confidence than he felt inside.

It became apparent as soon as he entered the room that he had made a mistake. This was most definitely _not_ the dining room. It was a large and well-lit chamber, comfortably (almost luxuriously) furnished, with soft drapes at the windows and expensive furniture. It was clearly a day room with several low couches lining the walls. It was also a room designed for a woman; the little feminine touches standing out clearly. Near the window an elderly lady, expensively if simply dressed, sat in a low backed chair enjoying the late afternoon sunlight, busying herself with the loom that stood in front of her; the shuttle making a drowsy sound as she flicked it back and forth with practiced ease.

Hearing Jason enter behind her the woman spoke without turning, her voice mellow yet vibrant.

"Well?" she asked. "Is _His Majesty_ settled in?" Her voice contained a note of unexpected sarcasm.

Jason froze. Clearly he was not the person that she thought she was talking to. Before he could open his mouth to introduce himself and ask for directions though, she went on.

"Oh I know," she stated impatiently. "I ought to be grateful to the King for allowing me to live here in such pleasant surroundings. You have said as much so many times before, Alexarchos." She sighed, her eyes still focussed on her weaving. "You are right of course. There are far worse fates than this and Minos has been accommodating… yet I can never forgive or forget all that he stole from me… no matter how much I might wish it otherwise."

She turned suddenly, perhaps to make a further comment, and froze as she spotted Jason, her eyes opening wide with surprise and her delicate mouth forming an 'o'. Although she was elderly she was still beautiful, slender and elegant, with silver hair piled up in an elaborate hairstyle, caught back with golden combs.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "And why are you in my private gynaikonitis?"

"I'm sorry," Jason answered, thoroughly flustered. "I was looking for the dining room but I got a bit lost."

The old lady raised an eyebrow imperiously, in a manner that somehow reminded Jason of his mother.

"You certainly have," she declared, looking him up and down. "I presume that you arrived with His Majesty. You should know that these chambers are off limits. You are a man and not welcome here."

"I am sorry," Jason said again. "I didn't mean to intrude... and I certainly didn't mean to upset or offend you."

The old lady's eyes softened.

"If you were lost then you were not to know what this chamber was," she said more gently. "You have not caused any offence. If you seek the dining room then you should return to the corridor outside this room, turn right and make your way towards the front of the house. You will find it on the left side of the corridor near to the main door."

Jason nodded. It was typical of his luck that he had ended up going in completely the wrong direction on leaving his room – although he did have to admit that he only had himself to blame; he really should have listened to the instructions better.

"Thank you," he said softly.

He turned to leave. As he did his sleeve brushed against a vase, decorated with black figures on a red background and geometric patterns at the neck and lip, making it wobble. Jason reached out a hand to steady it. As his fingers brushed the vase the world seemed to drop away around him and a new scene appeared before his eyes.

 _It was dark as a youngish man of little more than average height strode down an empty corridor – the lack of people present indicating the lateness of the hour. Before a decorated door he stopped and raised his hand to knock, receiving permission to enter._

 _The room that the man entered was hidden half in darkness; lit only by a guttering candle and a couple of small lamps. On the far side of the chamber a slender woman stood with her back to him, pouring water from a black figured vase into a drinking vessel. Her dark hair was piled up onto her head and bound about with ribbons._

" _Mother," the man said._

 _The woman turned with a soft smile._

" _You are visiting me very late," she remarked._

" _It has been a long day," the man answered._

" _Indeed," his mother responded. "Would you care for some refreshment?" She gestured towards the vase._

" _No. Thank you."_

" _As you wish."_

" _You are very fond of that hydria," the man said, looking at the vase. "I have never quite understood why. After all you have many finer things."_

 _The woman sighed softly and moved towards the couches on the opposite side of the room, reclining comfortably on one of them, her eyes lost in distant memory._

" _Your father brought it back from Corinth for me," she answered. "You would not remember. You were very young at the time."_

 _Her son crossed to her side and reclined on another couch._

" _You miss him very much don't you?" he asked._

" _Every day my dear," the woman answered sadly. "Every day." She rallied herself with a fragile smile. "But I do not think that a discussion of my tableware is what has brought you to my doors this late at night."_

" _I did not disturb your rest did I?"_

" _No," the lady answered, a faint smile touching her delicate lips. "I could not sleep… particularly knowing that your wife was about to give birth." She fixed her son with a level look._

" _How did you know…" the man began._

" _One of the servants told me," the woman responded with a smile. "Now tell me, is all well?"_

" _Yes," her son answered with a slightly dazed smile. "All is very well… I have a son."_

" _A son?" the woman said with a smile that was bittersweet. "I wish your father was here to see this moment."_

" _So do I Mother," the man said softly, reaching out to take her hands. "Tomorrow I will introduce you to your grandson."_

" _Does he have a name?"_

" _Not yet. He was only born this evening. There will be time enough to name him over the coming days." His smile widened. "I have a son!" he added in an awestruck tone._

Jason was startled back into reality be a soft hand on his elbow. He swallowed hard and tried to regain his balance, feeling somehow off kilter. What the hell had _that_ been? And just who _were_ those people? Figments of his imagination he supposed. He'd always been told that his imagination was overactive but really that was just ridiculous.

Still breathing a little hard he turned slowly and found the old lady had crossed the room to his side. She was watching him with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Is all well child?" she asked. "You seem a little… disconcerted."

"Yes," Jason answered. "All is well. It was just… your vase… it seemed familiar."

The old lady turned from him to examine the vessel, picking it up almost reverently with a soft expression and a faraway look.

"It is very old," she answered quietly. "I have had it for many years. My late husband brought it back from Corinth for me. It must be more than forty years ago now. It is precious to me."

Jason nodded dumbly, although inside he recoiled at her words. Suddenly he felt as though the world had tilted on its axis.

"I'm sorry I intruded on you," he heard himself saying, his mind still reeling. "I… erm… I should probably go. I think I'm late."

"It would be best not to keep the King waiting," the elderly woman agreed. "And you should not be seen here. These chambers are forbidden to any man who is not of my household."

Jason nodded again and slipped back out into the hallway, hurrying off down the passage in the direction the old lady had said he should go to get to the dining room, lost deep in thought.

* * *

Minos glared at the empty space at the left hand end of the table with barely concealed irritation. If there was one thing he could not abide it was lateness. Particularly lateness if there was a meal involved. It had always seemed to him to be terribly bad manners to keep everyone waiting to start eating just because someone could not be on time, yet that was exactly what his stepson seemed to be doing. The King's frown deepened. In spite of his at times frustrating obstinacy Jason had to this point seemed to possess good manners; no matter what the other deficiencies of his upbringing might be he was at least polite. Minos intended to ensure it remained that way too and he knew that Pasiphae would feel the same way; would back him wholeheartedly. She could not stand tardiness any more than he could.

A noise from the doorway made the King turn with an ever deepening scowl. Jason slipped into the room as quietly and unobtrusively as possible and took his place at the table. In spite of the quality of the clothing that had been provided for him the young man still managed to look as though he had been dragged backwards through a hedge. Even his two friends had managed to make themselves presentable for the table so was it really too much to ask that Jason tidied himself up? Minos' eyes narrowed as his irritation grew. Perhaps it was time to take his stepson's wild and wilful behaviour in hand.

As the King watched, Ariadne shot Jason a warning look, nodding almost imperceptibly at her father. Somehow that only added fuel to Minos' indignation. His daughter should not be trying to warn her stepbrother about Minos' irritation; they should not be conspiring together in that way. He had been trying to be kind by sitting them near to one another, along with Jason's friend Pythagoras but perhaps that had been a mistake. After all he hardly wanted Jason's apparent disregard for propriety and the deficits of his upbringing to rub off on Ariadne.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Jason murmured as he slipped into his seat.

Minos raised an eyebrow. The boy seemed subdued; distracted.

"I trust there is an explanation for your tardiness?" he demanded sharply.

Jason flushed.

"I turned the wrong way out of my room and got a bit lost," he answered with an embarrassed laugh.

Minos felt his annoyance beginning to waver and fade a little. It would be easy enough to get a little lost in a strange house he supposed. Although everyone else had managed to find their way here without too much trouble.

"Did Alexarchos not tell you how to get here?" he asked sharply.

If anything Jason managed to look even more embarrassed than ever.

"No, he did," he said. "It was just that I was a bit distracted at the time and I didn't really pay enough attention."

"And what, pray tell, could have distracted you so much that you failed to listen to the simplest of instructions?" Minos barked, his irritation growing once more.

"I was looking for my tunic," Jason muttered, "and then I couldn't find my comb either. I swear it was in my bag this morning but it wasn't there when I went to look for it."

From alongside him Minos saw Ariadne glance at Jason with faint confusion; confusion that reflected his own feelings.

"Weren't your clothes laid out on the bed?" she asked. "Mine were."

"Yeah," Jason answered. "But I accidentally kicked the tunic off and then I couldn't find it."

"Why would you kick your clothes off the bed?" the Princess asked.

"I didn't actually mean to," Jason protested. "I sort of ended up falling asleep and kicked it off in my sleep. It's been a long couple of weeks," he added defensively.

Minos raised an eyebrow and looked at his stepson, his annoyance fading completely. The lad was right; it _had_ been a long couple of weeks and they _were_ all a little tired from travelling. It wasn't surprising under the circumstances that the young man had fallen asleep; it was more surprising, in fact, that more of their companions hadn't followed suit.

Jason looked around the table with a slightly worried frown.

"My… the Queen isn't joining us?" he asked.

Minos allowed himself a wry smile. It would not be long, he suspected, before Jason referred to Pasiphae as "my mother" in public – something that the lad had so far refrained from doing. Part of him could not wait to see the look of surprise on Pasiphae's face when that happened. For now though, it was perhaps for the best that Jason still referred to her by her title – even in the company of a group who all knew the secret of his parentage; it would hopefully prevent any slips when he was in company that did not know the truth. Actually the more the King came to know his stepson the less he minded the idea of the world knowing the truth, but he suspected that Jason himself was still far from ready to openly acknowledge who he was and accept all the privileges and consequences that his position entailed. To push the boy reluctantly into the limelight would do no good whatsoever; he would need to choose that path for himself. With all that had been going on with Anaxandros and the fall of the city, Minos had not had the time or the inclination to discuss the future with Jason but it was not a conversation that could be put off forever and the time was rapidly approaching when it would need to be addressed.

"No," he answered kindly. "She was also a little tired from our journey and felt that given her recent injuries it would be better to rest this evening. I arranged for a meal to be served in her chambers. You may visit her after supper if you wish."

Jason nodded thoughtfully. He still seemed a little distracted and subdued; as though he was only half with them in the dining room and half deep in his own thoughts. Minos turned back to his meal, accepting a selection of dishes as they were served. There were things that he felt needed to be discussed this evening; decisions that he, with the able assistance of General Dion would have to make and he had no intention of trying to do so while distracted by hunger. He would like Jason to be involved in the discussion as well and perhaps his clever friend Pythagoras at least. Jason had proved back at the cave that he was adroit at thinking and planning on his feet and might have a viewpoint and suggestions that neither the more formally trained Dion nor the King would think of, and Pythagoras was clever enough to think up solutions to a variety of problems. Perhaps appealing to his stepson's apparent innate sense of duty would cause him to put aside whatever thoughts were distracting him at present. Minos cleared his throat.

"There are discussions that must be had and decisions that must be made," he proclaimed once he was sure that every eye was on him. "Once this meal is over I would retire to one of the family rooms where we can speak in comfort. General Dion, your advice will be most welcome and most appreciated… but others may also play their parts." The King fixed his stepson with a sharp look. "Atlantis is imperilled. It lies in the hands of a tyrant who would destroy all that has been achieved and built over the past long years. If the city is to be regained and the natural order restored, we may all need to make sacrifices. I have a duty to the city and to its people; to protect and guide them; to rule as the Gods see fit… there is no greater honour for any man than to serve our great city."

From his position down at the far left of the table, seated near to his two friends, Hercules hid a grimace. Honour and duty. Two words that were almost guaranteed to set Jason off, as Hercules privately suspected the King knew all too well. The boy's sense of honour and duty was going to get him killed one day (get them all killed most likely since where one went the other two would always follow), so to hear Minos to throw those words around so casually in Jason's hearing irritated the burly wrestler. He could not restrain himself from glaring darkly at his monarch.

If Minos even noticed Hercules' disapprobation he gave no indication of it. On the contrary, he watched his stepson straighten and visibly pull his thoughts back to the present with some satisfaction. He smiled benevolently at his companions.

"For now let us simply enjoy our meal," he stated.

In truth the food was not of the variety that would usually grace the royal table, although it did have the benefits of being both hot and filling. Minos found that he could forgive the deficiencies for now though; the servants had not been expecting the arrival of the royal family and their small retinue and would not have had the time to acquire appropriate supplies. No doubt Pasiphae would impress upon them exactly what would be required of them and would ensure that the table was properly supplied in the future. Once again the King found himself almost feeling sorry for the servants, knowing that they were bound to face his wife's wrath.

"What's a gynaikonitis?" Something in Jason's softly spoken question pulled Minos' attention back to his stepson; something in his tone of voice perhaps.

"It is a section of some houses where men are not permitted," Pythagoras answered with a slight frown. "The private rooms reserved for the use of the women of the household. The only men permitted to enter are those who are related by blood or marriage to the women. It is a concept that comes from Athens and is not widely practiced in Atlantis… and in our city it is only ever practiced in the houses of the nobility."

"That makes sense," Jason murmured to himself.

"Why do you ask?" Pythagoras queried.

"When I left my chamber to come to supper I turned right instead of left," Jason began. "I ended up in a sort of sitting room. There was an old lady there. She told me that it was her private gynaikonitis and that I wasn't supposed to be there; that because I was a man it was forbidden."

"Who was this old lady?" Ariadne asked with a confused frown. She had never heard of anyone other than servants living on a royal estate and no servant would dare refer to a room as their own.

Jason shrugged.

"I don't know," he admitted. "We never actually got as far as introducing ourselves. I was late and she really didn't want me to be there, so I left pretty quickly to be honest. She was kind enough… she made sure I knew how to get here and everything… but I was intruding so I didn't really want to hang around." He deliberately left out the incident with the vase and the weird scene he was desperately trying to convince himself he had imagined; trying to make himself believe it was no more than a daydream.

At the first mention of the old lady Minos had stiffened. How could he have forgotten that _she_ lived here? He was the one after all who had offered her a home in Pagenia; who had given her the opportunity to live out the rest of her life in relative comfort. It was poor recompense for all she had lost and yet at the time it had seemed to be for the best; had seemed to be all that he could do for her. Minos had not, in all conscience, been able to see a lady of noble birth thrown to the lions so to speak; had been unwilling to turn her onto the street. Yet by the same token it was clear that she could not remain a member of the court in Atlantis, and had apparently had no inclination to do so anyway.

Now though, he was in a position to return part of what had been taken away to her. Yet was the time right? Could he allow himself and the other members of his party to be distracted by a domestic matter when the fate of all Atlantis was at stake? Would it perhaps be better to wait until a more propitious moment? To wait until Anaxandros was defeated and some semblance of normality returned to their lives?

Perhaps it would be best to wait for now and to discuss the matter with Pasiphae at a time when he could be assured of their privacy. For all that she was only a woman his wife had a fine political mind and a strength that he had found himself leaning on and taking comfort in many times over the years. She would undoubtedly have an opinion on the matter and between them they should be able to determine the best course of action. Yes, the more that he thought about it the more Minos was convinced that waiting and speaking to Pasiphae would be for the best. Decision made, he turned back to his supper with relish, swiftly summoning a servant to clear away the remains of the dishes consumed so far and bring out a selection of fruits and pastries as a sweet end to the meal.

After supper was over the entire party retired to a large and comfortable chamber which might best be described as a sitting room. There was something almost sinfully pleasant about relaxing in comfortable surroundings after the last couple of weeks of hardship. In spite of the urgency of the situation in Atlantis, Minos found himself loathe to begin the discussion about the immediate future as he watched his companions, content for now to watch them take their ease.

Over in one corner Ariadne was deep in conversation with the Oracle, casting the occasional longing glance towards Jason that she clearly believed her father would not notice. Her behaviour amused Minos more than a little; he _did_ remember what it was like to be young and in love in spite of appearances to the contrary, and as long as both his daughter and stepson observed the proprieties he was willing to let the odd longing look pass.

On the other side of the room, Jason and Pythagoras had settled themselves on the floor and were already engaged in a makeshift game of knucklebones, using small pebbles that they had acquired from somewhere. After a moment Hercules joined them with an amused roll of his eyes, producing a proper set of bones from a pouch at his belt and playing as enthusiastically as either one of his young friends.

The King frowned lightly. Why were the boys sitting on the floor when there were perfectly good couches nearby? He had noticed back at the Palace that his stepson had a tendency to use furniture for things other than their intended purpose; sitting on the edge of a table with his feet up on a stool or stretched out on the floor. Soon enough, Minos supposed, he would have to ask Pasiphae to impress upon the young man that tables were for eating off or writing on, stools or chairs were for sitting on and the floor was for walking on, and the three must _never_ be confused. A prince could not behave like a peasant after all and ought to know the correct usages of furniture without being told.

Dion strode purposefully over to his King and stood in front of him.

"Your Majesty," he rumbled quietly but respectfully. "You wished to speak with me."

"Indeed," Minos responded. "Be seated." He gestured to a nearby couch and waited for the stocky general to sit down. "The future of Atlantis is at stake and whilst the decisions we took at Dodona and the plans we made were both necessary and good, I believe it is now time to revisit some of those decisions and make further plans for the future. I do not intend to leave the city, or indeed the kingdom, in the hands of Anaxandros or his Amphigeneian hordes for a moment longer than is absolutely necessary." He raised his voice slightly so that it would carry to all the occupants of the room, drawing them into the conversation naturally.

"The plan to come here was a good one," Dion agreed, casting an approving glance towards Jason. "The garrison from Kantonum should begin to arrive over the next few days and, although Belos and Pammon have yet to catch up with us, I have no doubt that more and more of the garrisons will join us as the days pass. I have dispatched Asopus to speak with the captain of the garrison here in Pagenia and Nisos to seek out a place where the men might set up camp away from the town itself. With the numbers of soldiers I expect to arrive shortly we will require careful billeting. Nisos is a good young officer and I believe more than equal to the task."

"That is good," Minos answered, "yet it is not the matter which concerns me now." He paused. "Soon we will need to dispatch emissaries to our allies importuning them for their aid. I would wish to keep this news from Anaxandros for as long as possible so that he is not unduly prepared for any battle that is to come, but I do not see how this may be achieved. We will need to have counsel with the other Kings and the Amphigeneians will undoubtedly learn of the presence of their armies on Atlantian soil. It will only be a matter of time then, I am afraid, until Anaxandros learns of our presence in Pagenia and sends his army to counter us before we can fully assemble."

"Why do the armies have to come here?" Pythagoras asked softly.

"As I have told you I will have need to consult with our allies; to draw up agreements and the like. Their aid will have a price… even if it _is_ only in the form of a reciprocal promise," Minos stated with faint irritation. He had not thought that he would have to explain this.

"That is not what I mean," Pythagoras said. "I understand that the Kings and their advisors will need to come here but why do their armies?"

"I do not believe that I understand your meaning," Minos admitted.

"I think I do," Jason said, throwing an admiring glance in Pythagoras' direction. "That's clever."

"Simple," Pythagoras responded self-deprecatingly. "It seems the only logical solution to the problem so that the Amphigeneians might be kept in the dark for as long as possible."

"If this idea is both so simple and so clever would one of you care to share it?" the King demanded sharply.

"How close are we to the border? And whose border?" Jason asked, hooking his hands behind one knee.

"No more than ten leagues," Dion answered.

"A day's march," Pythagoras murmured to Jason in response to his friend's slightly confused look. What had seemed like mere ignorance on Jason's part made much more sense now that he knew his friend's origins. "On average an army will march ten leagues in a day."

"It is the border with Aegina," Dion added. "Why do you wish to know?"

"Is Aegina likely to be an ally?" Jason queried.

"Aeacus of Aegina is neither ally nor enemy," Minos answered. "We are cordial with one another without being expected to fly to each other's aid. He is, however, no friend of Anaxandros; their animosity is even more deep seated than our own."

"Alright then," Jason said. He looked at Pythagoras. "If I'm understanding what you were planning, you mean for the armies of the other Kings to remain camped in Aegina while the Kings themselves, along with their advisors and guards, come on to Pagenia and meet with His Majesty. Is that about right?"

"Yes," Pythagoras answered.

"It has possibilities My Lord," Dion rumbled. "Of course not all our allies would be coming through Aegina but as we maintain cordial relations with most of our neighbours it is to be hoped that we could persuade them to allow the armies of our allies to camp on their soil for a few weeks until we are ready to make a move on Atlantis itself."

Minos nodded thoughtfully.

"Aeacus would undoubtedly be more than happy to assist as long as we could give assurances that the armies would not remain indefinitely," he said. "He is likely to agree to anything that causes harm to Anaxandros."

"With your permission My Lord I will send out riders to intercept your allies and to the neighbouring kingdoms – those where the armies might need to camp – with greetings and missives from yourself," Dion rumbled.

"It will be well done," Minos declared. "I will prepare the letters carefully. They will be ready for dispatch tonight. I would wish to strike as quickly as possible, before the enemy has chance to act. The sooner we can summon our allies the sooner we can regain our rightful place."

* * *

It was late when Minos made his way to his wife's chambers – far later than he had intended. Writing the letters for Dion's emissaries to carry had taken longer than he had anticipated. For a moment he paused, wondering whether Pasiphae would still be awake and whether he should disturb any rest she might be getting. Her recent injury had made him wary; anxious that she should recover her health as quickly as possible. Yet he felt the need for her counsel and suspected that there would be precious little time for him to speak to her in private in the coming days.

As Minos stepped inside the room he was more than a little startled to see that, despite the lateness of the hour, Pasiphae was standing in the window, gazing out across the still moonlit waters of the bay, her face lost in shadow.

"Something troubles you My Lord?" she asked without turning.

Minos crossed to her side and looked out through the window, sharing the view of the peaceful scene below.

"You are not sleeping?" he asked solicitously.

"I believed that to be evident," Pasiphae answered sharply. "I have slept so much of late," she added, softening her tone, "and the moon holds a special affinity for all women. Selene graces us with her presence and all women should learn to do her honour."

Minos allowed a faint smile to touch his lips. It was rare for him to be faced with his wife's beliefs and piety.

"It is certainly a beautiful night," he murmured.

"Indeed," Pasiphae responded. "But what brings you to these chambers at such a late hour?"

The King sighed.

"I am worried," he admitted. "Something happened this evening that concerned me."

"And what has concerned you so much My Lord?" Pasiphae asked solicitously.

"There was an incident earlier," Minos said. He hesitated for a moment before ploughing on. "With your son."

Pasiphae stiffened. If Jason had done anything to incur the King's displeasure he would feel hers, she vowed. Yet at the same time she knew that she would defend him like a lioness; defend him to the last.

"Jason has offended you My Lord?" she asked, her tone frosty.

"No, no," Minos was quick to try to reassure her. "Your son is not at fault… beyond being a little inattentive to his surroundings that is."

Pasiphae frowned as she looked at her husband.

"Then perhaps you would like to elaborate on your concerns," she said.

"Jason got lost on his way to the dining room this evening," Minos answered. "He turned the wrong way in the corridor and ended up in the gynaikonitis. Tyro was there."

"Tyro," Pasiphae said. "I had all but forgotten that she lives here."

"As had I," agreed Minos.

Pasiphae glanced sharply at her husband.

"Does Jason know?" she demanded. "Does he know who she is? Who she is to him?"

"No. As far as I understand the old lady informed him that he should not be in the chamber and directed him to the dining room. There was no time for them to introduce themselves." He hesitated. "It presents me with something of a dilemma," he admitted. "Tyro _is_ the boy's grandmother and I am loathe to keep his existence from her. Yet I am concerned that under the current circumstances this may prove to be an unwelcome distraction from vital matters of state."

Pasiphae gazed out of the window for a few long minutes, her mind busily assessing all the possibilities and outcomes that she could think of. Finally she turned back to Minos.

"I do not believe that it would be in anyone's interests to act precipitously and inform Jason of his grandmother's presence at this precise time," she said slowly. "The boy has been so unsettled with all the changes in his life. He is adapting well but I cannot think that this news would do anything other than to unsettle him further and distract him at a time when his focus should be elsewhere. I fully intend that he should learn about his family and heritage but now is not the time. Better to wait until Atlantis is back in our hands and we can properly begin his instruction."

"Jason may not choose to remain at our side once this current crisis is over and we return to our home," Minos pointed out gently.

"I am aware of that," Pasiphae snapped. "He is not an unintelligent boy though and I think will ultimately be persuaded of the benefits to be found through acceptance of his place in life."

"And do you not think that keeping this sort of news from him will drive a wedge between you when Jason finally learns the truth?" Minos asked. "It may drive him to take the decision to leave without thinking of the consequences. He would have every right to be hurt and angry… particularly given how much was kept from him in the past by his own father; how much he was lied to by all of those around him."

"It is a risk I truly believe we must take," Pasiphae answered. "I know Jason well enough by now that I cannot help but believe that he will be in the forefront of any action to take back the city… no matter how much I might wish it otherwise. He will see it as his duty to fight and I do not believe that anything I… or you… or anyone else for that matter can say to him will dissuade him. I will not have his life risked needlessly however. The knowledge that the grandmother he never knew was living in seclusion in Pagenia would only serve to distract him at a time when he will most need to focus attention on what is going on around him. I cannot risk his heart and mind being divided in this way… and we hardly have the time to give due attention to a family matter right now."

She paused and raised one hand to cover her mouth, eyes closing as a wave of weariness overcame her, the wound in her stomach throbbing faintly. What she could not speak of with her husband was her belief that Jason's otherworldly abilities were awakening ever more each day – and if that were true then he would have more than enough to cope with and think about without adding any more surprises into the mix.

"What of Tyro?" Minos asked. "Should she be told? So much was lost to her when we took the throne. This would perhaps make up a little for what she lost."

"Perhaps," Pasiphae acknowledged. "But until Jason is told of her existence it would seem cruel to tell her of his."

Minos frowned.

"How so?" he asked.

"Tyro lost Jason so many years ago… just as I did. For her to know that he was near; to be close enough to almost touch him but to not be allowed to acknowledge or speak with him; to know who he is but to have to keep that knowledge locked in her heart… to know that she cannot be with him… it would be so incredibly hard and painful for her." Pasiphae's voice was perhaps a little more emotional than was her usual custom – or than she intended – but she was speaking from personal experience even if Minos did not – could not – know it. "We would be giving her a gift with one hand and taking it away with the other," she continued, "and that would be cruel – even if the situation was only a temporary one. I cannot see that telling Tyro that her grandson has survived and thrived but then insisting that she cannot see or speak to him would be anything other than unkind. It would be better to keep her in the dark for a little while longer until the present situation is resolved. Then we might devote proper attention to the problem and ensure that both my son and his grandmother are reunited in a way that is beneficial to us all."

Minos sighed.

"Very well," he said. "I may not like the idea of keeping this news from Tyro but you are right my love… it may well be for the best for now. We will wait until we have regained Atlantis and our lives are more settled before we inform either the old lady or Jason of the truth."

Pasiphae half smiled and turned to make her way slowly back across the room towards the bed. It was endlessly frustrating that she could not yet move at her accustomed speed and did not have her accustomed stamina. She felt a warm hand on her back and half turned with surprise to find that her husband had moved up behind her and seemed intent on providing support. Part of Pasiphae could not help but be irritated at the fact that Minos believed that she needed help, but equally the rest of her could not help being touched by his concern.

"Thank you," she found herself murmuring with none of her usual asperity.

Minos hesitated for a moment.

"I wish to see you fully recovered, Pasiphae," he said.

"I will be fine," Pasiphae answered. "I grow stronger every day. Soon I will be as healthy as I ever was."

Minos stepped in front of his wife and took her hands in his.

"I feared for you," he said softly. "When I saw you pierced by that arrow…" he took a shuddering breath. "There is nothing in this world that is more important to me than Ariadne and you."

Pasiphae schooled her expression into a smile.

"I will be well My Lord," she asserted.

"I worry sometimes that the Gods have abandoned me; that they punish me for everything we did to take seize power," Minos admitted. "When you fell and Ariadne was separated from me I believed that perhaps I had paid a price for the throne that was too high."

"You cannot truly believe that," Pasiphae said calmly.

"Perhaps not," Minos answered, "but with my son long dead and lost to me forever, my daughter missing and my wife gravely injured dark thoughts were almost bound to enter my mind. I needed your strength my love as never before. Now though, with Ariadne restored to me and with your health returning, I begin to see hope for the future once more. We will drive the Amphigeneians from our lands and bring Anaxandros to his knees."

Pasiphae smiled again. Although there were definitely times when it suited her purposes for Minos to be manipulable, at present it was far more important for him to be strong.

"I have dispatched emissaries to our closest allies this night asking them to join us here to make plans for the recapture of the city. Further messengers have been sent to Aeacus of Aegina and the other neighbouring kingdoms to request permission for the armies of our allies to camp on their lands. If they come to our aid we have a chance. If they do not…"

"You cannot allow yourself to believe for even an instant that we will not succeed," Pasiphae said sharply. "If you show weakness our enemies will strike and you will lose everything. Who would ally themselves with a king who is not certain of his own right to rule? Who does not have the strength to demand allegiance from those who owe it to him? Who does not have the courage to take back what has been stolen from him? If we are to regain what is rightfully ours then you must have faith that the Gods will not abandon us. For Anaxandros to enter the city as he did can only have been an act of treachery; the hand of man and not the Gods. We will take back the city and drive our enemies from our lands. We will find the traitors and they _will_ be executed."

Minos nodded.

"I take comfort from your strength as I always have," he said, "and I will have need of it in the days to come. With you at my side I truly believe that we can achieve anything." He looked around the room. "It is late," he remarked, "and you are still recovering. You require your rest. I will leave you."

"We will all require our rest if we are to be at our best when our allies join us," Pasiphae answered, "and if we are to persuade them that our cause is not hopeless – that there is much to be gained from allying themselves with us – we _must_ be at our best." She paused. "There is of course one potential ally that we have not yet considered sending emissaries to."

"Who?" Minos asked as they moved towards the bed and perched on the edge.

"My brother," answered Pasiphae. "Aeetes would send troops if I were to demand them... and the Colchian army is a force to be reckoned with."

Minos hesitated.

"I would prefer to hold that option in reserve" he said. "We are far from Colchis here and any army that Aeetes was to send might well arrive after the war was decided. Help from that quarter would likely come too late. To send a message to your brother would require us to find a ship and crew willing to traverse stormy seas in the dead of winter. I do not believe that we have either the time or men to spare for such an expedition."

"As you wish," Pasiphae said. "It was merely one more option to consider."

"The men from the garrisons should begin to arrive over the next few days," Minos stated. "Once they have begun to gather we can begin to make plans properly. Getting back into the city may not prove an easy task. We cannot rely on brute force to break our way in – the walls are as strong as they ever were – and we must believe that the path through the sewers is known to Anaxandros… for I can see no other way that his men could have got into the city so quickly and with no alarm being raised."

"It is indeed something that will require careful thought My Lord," Pasiphae responded. "But perhaps it is not a problem that should trouble you tonight. There will be plenty of time to think on it once both our troops and our allies begin to gather. We should both retire for the night. There is nothing so urgent that it cannot wait for morning."

Minos smiled faintly.

"You are right of course," he murmured. "I will leave you to your slumber." He pushed himself to his feet. "Sleep well," he said by way of farewell, before heading out of the room in search of his own chambers and some well-deserved rest.

* * *

The King had been right in his assessment of when the remnants of his army would begin to arrive. The garrison from Kantonum began to trickle into the town the next day, arriving in groups of three or four, travel stained and weary. The site identified by Nisos for their camp proved to be a good one and the men set about erecting tents with military precision, aided by the small garrison from Pagenia itself.

It was quickly apparent that the rations the soldiers had carried with them would not last for long and that the storehouses of Pagenia would be quickly depleted with the influx of men, so Briarus, newly arrived from Kantonum, had selected a small group of his men to be a hunting party; responsible for putting food on the tables.

Over the next few days more and more men arrived; the garrisons of Ephitake and Mallena joining that of Kantonum. Belos and Pammon had reported to Dion immediately on their respective arrivals to inform him that the King's wishes had been carried out and that messengers had been despatched to other garrisons in the outlying districts.

As the days passed it became obvious that these messengers had reached their targets and had successfully conveyed their orders as more and more soldiers began to arrive – the army of Atlantis proving its loyalty to its King. As the ranks began to swell so hope began to rise; every man secretly dreaming of honours won in battle; every man hoping to play his part to regain their city. Here and there small fights broke out amongst the camped soldiers – inevitable really when so many men were kept in such close quarters – but these were quickly suppressed by the commanding officers.

In the royal estate on the hill Minos waited. He knew that no matter how many men arrived from the garrisons they would still need the support of his allies to win the day; that there simply weren't enough soldiers in the outlying garrison towns to challenge Anaxandros with any hope of winning. Until word came from his brother monarchs there was no point in making any hasty moves.

Four days after the first men began to arrive from Ephitake and Mallena, refugees from Atlantis itself began to trickle into town. They were mainly soldiers from the garrison and only arrived in twos and threes, having stumbled into groups from the other garrisons and been brought along with them. They told stories of dark atrocities; of loyal citizens strung up in the streets, their bodies left to rot where they had been hanged, simply for daring to show any objection to the new rule; of soldiers from the army executed in evermore inventive and gruesome ways; of men held in overcrowded prison cells, dank and dark, barely fed, with only the clothing they had been arrested in, awaiting their turn in the arena as Anaxandros sought to cement his rule with a brutal set of games – forcing men to fight like animals against impossible odds; of prison cells filled to bursting point with men and women awaiting execution for often the most spurious of reasons; of a city in fear, its populous under curfew and terrified of falling foul of one of the myriad of new and brutal laws.

The refugees also told of an underground resistance to the Amphigeneians, spoken of only in whispers within the city where those who might inform the new authorities could not overhear. They told of brave men and women who were risking everything to get those in the most immediate danger out of the city; of a giant of a man who was smuggling soldiers out through tunnels beneath the city, equipping them for a long journey and sending them off in as much safety as he could manage.

These stories spread like wildfire through the encamped soldiers, reaching the ears of the King and his party in the house on the hillside in short order. Rounding the corner of a corridor into an open vestibule late one evening Minos found his stepson and his two friends deep in conversation standing in a window and looking out, the lanterns and torches of the town below winking in and out and beyond them the moon dappled sea providing a beautiful backdrop for a serious conversation.

Without quite knowing why he did it Minos dropped back into the shadows. Truth be told he still felt that his wife's son was something of a mystery to both himself and Pasiphae. If he had the chance to solve a little of that mystery he intended to take it and he knew deep down that none of these three would speak completely freely in front of him; his own position was a barrier between them.

"What in the name of the Gods is Meriones thinking of?" Hercules demanded of his companions.

"Probably about saving as many people as he could," Pythagoras answered. "You have said before that in spite of everything he is a patriot."

"Mmm," Hercules grunted in agreement. "He always says that turmoil and treachery are bad for business."

"It's more than that though isn't it?" Jason asked not dragging his eyes away from the view from the window. "Meriones is a good man."

"He's a thief, a scoundrel and a liar," Hercules groused. "But he's also a good friend," he admitted, " _and_ a good man."

"Ariadne and I wouldn't have escaped from the city without him," Jason murmured. "We had to get off the streets and Meriones' house was the only place I could think of to go. He seems to be destined to shelter me when I need it most."

"He cares about you," Hercules stated flatly, knowing that the concept of people caring was still something that his friend struggled with.

Jason glanced at him with a strange, almost sad, half-smile.

"I know," he admitted. "Although I wish he didn't."

Pythagoras frowned deeply.

"Why?" he asked quizzically.

"Because I seem to have a habit of putting the people who care about me in danger," Jason murmured, turning back to the window.

"Now you listen to me," Hercules growled. "Whatever Meriones is doing has nothing whatsoever to do with you. Nothing here is your fault. Do you hear me? You need to stop blaming yourself for everyone else's choices and actions."

Jason looked startled.

"I'm not," he protested. "I didn't mean now as such… I meant in general… you know what it doesn't matter."

"Actually it does matter," Pythagoras interjected. "It matters very much. I do wish that you did not have such a low opinion of yourself."

"If it weren't for me you'd be safe at home."

Pythagoras raised an eyebrow.

"If it were not for you I would be long dead and in the belly of the Minotaur," he pointed out, "and Atlantis would still be offering seven of its citizens as a sacrifice to the Earth Bull every year." He grabbed hold of his friend's arm and forced him to turn. "Do not presume to think that I am anywhere other than where I want to be. I have chosen my lot in life… I have chosen to be your friend… and my own choices are what have led me here, nothing else."

"Perhaps," Jason acknowledged. He sighed.

"You are pensive this evening," Pythagoras said, coming to stand by his younger friend so that their shoulders were touching. "I have told you before that it doesn't suit you." He placed a warm hand on Jason's shoulder. "What troubles you my friend?"

Jason sighed again.

"It's just that what Meriones is doing is so dangerous. If Anaxandros finds out…"

"He will be executed," Hercules finished.

"And there is nothing we can do to help him," Jason said.

"Meriones will know the risks," Hercules rumbled. "I have known him for more years than I really like to think about. We grew up together. I've never known him do anything without thinking of all the possible outcomes. He'll have gone into this with his eyes wide open."

Jason pulled a face.

"I know," he said. "It's just that Meriones was so kind when I was… when I wasn't myself… when I had that… well… for want of a better word… breakdown."

In the darkness Minos frowned. The day when Jason had first learned who his mother was, down in the Oracular chamber, Hercules had hinted at the fact that the boy had been unwell – what was it that he had said? That Jason had been unwell a couple of months previously but that he was largely recovered, and that most of the time he was fine but occasionally disappeared inside his own head; was a little sad at times. That was what the burly wrestler had said if the King was recalling the conversation properly – which he believed he was. Clearly there had been more to this "illness" that Hercules had said at the time; clearly it had been an illness of the mind rather than the body. That was a distinctly unsettling thought and one which Minos felt would require further investigation – although the fact that Jason was openly talking about the matter with his friends perhaps indicated that he _had_ largely recovered as his older friend had said.

"I just hate the fact that we can't help him," Jason continued. "After all it's thanks to him that Ariadne and I… and the Oracle of course… got away from Atlantis at all."

"You never did tell us how you managed to escape the city," Pythagoras murmured.

Jason half turned towards his younger friend with a half-smile.

"Oh you know… the usual combination… skill, cunning, intelligence," he joked. "Actually it wasn't anything spectacular. One of Meriones' warehouses had a trapdoor in the floor that led into a tunnel under the city. Nisos said something about it being a smuggler's tunnel."

"The old smugglers tunnels," Hercules mused. "So that's how he's getting people out! I'd almost forgotten about them."

"You know about this then," Pythagoras said.

"Sort of," Hercules answered. "When I was a little boy there were rumours that there were tunnels under the city – deeper even than the sewers – that led down to the sea. They were supposed to have been used by smugglers in the old days. As far as anyone knew they hadn't been used in generations. Meriones and I used to look for the entrances from time to time… looking for adventure I suppose. We were only children at the time. Never did find them though."

"I think it's fairly safe to say that Meriones has found the entrance now," Jason remarked.

"Sounds like it," Hercules agreed. He looked about himself. "I need a drink," he declared. "There must be wine in this place… Lots and lots of fine wine."

"And who are we to keep you from fine wine," Pythagoras said with some amusement, exchanging an eye roll with Jason.

As the three friends moved off in search of wine for Hercules, Minos stepped out of the shadows, deep in thought. If nothing else the conversation he had been listening to gave him much to think about. He had never heard of tunnels beneath Atlantis other than the sewers. Perhaps it would be wise to question both the refugees who had escaped from the city and Hercules further. This was information that the King felt it was important that he knew. Lost in thought he headed off in the direction of his chambers, already planning on making enquiries in the morning.

* * *

It was late the next day when the sentries on the hillside spotted the first signs of the imminent arrival of one of Atlantis' allies. In the far distance Laius of Thebes was spotted heading towards the town with his retinue of advisors and guards. Word was immediately sent to inform Minos of the impending arrival – although it would still take several hours for the Theban King to arrive. Closeted in the royal estate with Dion and the garrison commanders who had arrived so far, Minos waited for his allies to arrive. Now was the time for the serious planning to begin.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N Lord is it really over a month since I last updated? I am _so_ sorry. I'd like to say that there's a good excuse but really it's just been a temporary lack of inspiration.

Anyway if anyone's still reading please let me know (especially if you're enjoying the story). It might help me to concentrate on the next chapter a little more (because knowing that people are still interested tends to spur me on).

* * *

As King Laius approached through the archway into the enclosed courtyard, his retinue arrayed behind him, Minos waited for him on the steps of the house dressed in a fine robe prepared for him over the last few days by the finest seamstresses in Pagenia. Made of deep blue silk and heavily embroidered with gold it came close to rivalling his state robe left behind in the chaos of the fall of the city. The manner of his dress was carefully constructed to give the allied kings a particular impression; that Minos was not defeated – that he was still very much a King.

The presence of Pasiphae at his side only added to the impression that far from being the deposed monarch Minos was very much in charge. The Queen stood as straight and elegant as ever, the pale blue silk gown that had been provided for her hanging gracefully from her slender shoulders, fastened with gold clasps at the shoulder and pulled in under her bust and at the waist by a narrow gold belt which accentuated her slim figure. Her jewellery, carefully carried to Pagenia in the torn remnants of the gown she had worn in Atlantis, had been polished by the servants until it shone in the late afternoon sunlight and her hair was elaborately dressed to show off her gold diadem to its best advantage; the soft, diaphanous veil attached to her hair by means of a jewelled comb and floating down gracefully across her shoulders only adding to the image Pasiphae was trying to portray.

Pasiphae allowed a faint, graceful smile to touch her face. Image was important right now as well she knew (and had counselled her husband). If Minos was to regain the throne then he could not afford to show any weakness, even when applying for aid from his allies, and she would be required to stand at his side and play the perfect hostess. The few extra days of rest that she had managed to get while waiting for the allied kings too arrive had helped to restore a little of her strength and stamina – enough so that she would be able to maintain a façade at least; should be able to convince any outsiders that she was as strong and healthy as ever. If the wound in her stomach still gave her some pain at times and if she found herself growing tired remarkably quickly? Well, who would know? Pasiphae was well practiced at schooling her emotions, at hiding behind the mask of the Queen, and she had no doubt in her own ability to do it now.

Alongside Pasiphae, Ariadne looked every inch the perfect Atlantian princess; the royal family of Atlantis presenting a united front for the outside world. In reality Pasiphae knew that her prim and proper stepdaughter had little time for Laius; objecting to the Theban monarch's morality – his behaviour towards any women that happened to catch his eye. It was evident in the girl's stiff carriage that she had no wish to be present but was determined to do her duty. Pasiphae inwardly snorted. Sooner or later Ariadne would have to learn the realities of life. No matter how much political awareness she had begun to show over the last few months this was one respect in which she remained terribly priggish and naïve. In the end it did not matter whether or not she approved of Laius' conduct; he was of royal blood – a sovereign king – and their ally, and must be treated with all the courtesy and respect that his position afforded.

How many times had Pasiphae stood like this waiting at her husband's side waiting to greet a visiting dignitary? Somewhere along the line she had lost count. Unlike her stepdaughter, however, Pasiphae was too experienced to allow her personal opinions to show or to colour her dealings with outsiders. She knew all too well the role she had to play and would play it to perfection if it meant that she could regain her rightful place as Queen of Atlantis. She glanced sideways at her stepdaughter without turning her head. She had no doubt that Ariadne would behave with grace and decorum no matter how she felt about Laius personally; the girl was simply too well schooled in etiquette to do otherwise. It was only because she knew Ariadne so very well that she could pick up the indications in her body language that almost screamed disapproval to Pasiphae's knowing gaze.

If circumstances were different there would of course be another member of their family on the steps greeting their guests. Pasiphae felt a little surge of longing – no more than an idle daydream she told herself – for a time when her son would stand there with them openly. She understood the reasons why he was still being kept secret even from their allies of course; he was in no way ready for any of this; would require careful training – educating in proper court etiquette – before she would be willing to allow him to be subjected to the constant scrutiny of court life. As soon as Jason was openly acknowledged he would be silently judged by dozens of eyes – both friendly and unfriendly; his every move watched and whispered about by members of both the Atlantian court and any visiting nobility and their retinues. He was such a free spirit; so unbridled and innocent of their customs that until he was properly educated he was almost bound to fall foul of some of the rules that governed the lives of the royal family – and Pasiphae was _not_ about to expose him to the whispered censure of those who were actually socially inferior until she was sure that he was ready and would cause no embarrassment to her. She would not leave the boy vulnerable to the ridicule of the sycophantic toadies that clung to her husband like the moss that grows on the underside of a stone; would protect him passionately from the more unpleasant aspects of life within the Atlantian court until she was sure he was ready to hold his own.

Just because she knew the reasons for keeping the nature of Jason's relationship to her secret, however, didn't mean that she didn't dream of the day when she could openly acknowledge his presence. Pasiphae allowed herself a small sigh as the little surge of longing swept over her once more. From the corner of her eye she caught Ariadne giving a little start and casting a startled glance in her direction. Pasiphae stiffened; straightening her back and forcing the mask of the Queen back into place. She could not allow herself such sentimentality; could not allow anyone (especially not _Ariadne_ of all people) to see even the _hint_ of weakness in her.

As Laius stepped forwards, mounting the steps in front of him, Minos stepped forwards with a smile and his hands extended. He did not leave the stylobate and descend the steps at all, knowing that he had to appear dominant and not supplicant (even if that was what he really was – asking his allies for aid). Laius smiled widely and stepped forward into the Atlantian King's welcoming handclasp.

"King Laius," Minos said in greeting, his voice warm. Laius was after all a friend and not simply a political ally, and in spite of the circumstances Minos was genuinely pleased to see him.

"My Lord," Laius answered equally warmly. "I had hoped to entertain you as my guest in Thebes; to return some of the kind hospitality you showed to my wife and I when we visited your court."

"Perhaps in the future that may be possible," Minos responded. "I would like nothing more than to visit your kingdom but for now I fear such an endeavour must be postponed until Anaxandros has been driven from Atlantis."

Laius frowned, his dark brows knitting together into a glower.

"Anaxandros has no honour," he growled. "It will be a pleasure to help you to deal with him. Tell me, how can I help?"

Minos allowed the faintest of smiles to grace his stern features.

"That is something we will need to discuss," he answered smoothly. "For now though you must be tired from your long journey. Accommodation has been arranged for your retinue in some of the finest houses in Pagenia. I would be honoured if you yourself would stay here with me. A chamber has been set aside for your use in the family wing and refreshments have been laid on."

"What of Tiresias?" Laius asked. "His counsel is invaluable to me and I would have him nearby."

"Quarters have been arranged for him within this house," Minos responded. "I understand the value of good counsel only too well."

"You have my thanks," Laius responded, summoning Tiresias forwards with a wave of his hand.

Once directions had been given to the grim faced old man relating to the disposition and comfort of the rest of the small Theban party, Laius turned back towards the Atlantian royals with a smile. Stepping forwards he caught Pasiphae's hand in his own and raised it to his lips.

"My Lady," he said softly. "Your presence graces us all as always."

"My Lord," Pasiphae answered, the timbre of her voice warm and mellow.

"I am pleased to see you looking so well," Laius said, still maintaining his hold on her hand. "When news reached me of the fall of the city I feared for you all."

"As you can see I am quite well," Pasiphae responded. Laius did not need to know of her recent injury; could not be allowed to see her as a weak woman.

"I am glad of it. Dare I hope that we will see your gracious beauty visiting our court soon? I know that Jocasta will be delighted to entertain you."

Pasiphae's face remained proper, her smile warm and welcoming. Inside, however, she could not suppress a mental snigger – somehow she seriously doubted that Jocasta would welcome her presence in any way – although she would undoubtedly be polite. The Theban Queen was very much like Ariadne in some regards and looked on her husband's conduct and suspected multiple infidelities with disgust. During their time in Atlantis, Jocasta had barely been able to look at Laius and, whilst Pasiphae knew that much of her anger had stemmed from her heartbreak over the loss of her firstborn and her husband's part in that affair (and could privately understand the woman's sorrow – could even sympathise with it), part of it had been down to his conduct with regards to the Atlantian Queen and her own responses to it.

As Pasiphae had told Ariadne at the time Jocasta was young and a little shy and had yet to grow into the role of a queen; to come to understand the realities of political life. She fancied that she saw a mutual attraction between her husband and Pasiphae and had not yet learned that a woman's allure could be used as a weapon; could be used to gain her power and position. No, Jocasta would _not_ be delighted to entertain someone who she feared as a rival no matter how far from the truth it really was.

"And I would be delighted to come My Lord," Pasiphae answered. "But alas it is not to be right now."

From the corner of her eye she thought she caught a glimpse of a dark haired figure ducking out of sight behind a pillar. Pasiphae frowned. If that was who she thought it was then he really should not be lurking in the shadows.

"Something is wrong?" Laius asked solicitously, seeing her frown.

Pasiphae pulled herself away from thoughts of her wayward son – there would be time enough later to ascertain exactly what Jason had been doing slinking around in the shadows – and back to the monarch in front of her.

"No My Lord," she answered smoothly. "I merely saw something that I was not expecting. It is a purely domestic matter and one which I will not bore you with."

"I have never found your words boring," Laius responded.

Pasiphae nearly rolled her eyes at the trite compliment but resisted the urge. To the side of her she heard Ariadne splutter slightly and smiled pleasingly, covering for her stepdaughter's rare social faux-pas more because she knew that they could not afford to offend Laius in any way than out of affection for the blasted girl.

"I thank you for your kindness," she said, taking a step towards the Theban king. "Tonight we will have a feast in your honour. Minos has ordered it."

"A feast?" Laius exclaimed.

"Indeed," Minos responded graciously. "We must celebrate our friendship. We will dine with those of your retinue who you value the most."

Laius smiled.

"I shall look forwards to it," he proclaimed.

"You will find our household here is far from being as grand as your court in Thebes – or indeed our own palace in Atlantis," Pasiphae murmured. "Yet I trust you shall not be disappointed… and, the Gods willing, it will not be long before we are able to entertain you in more appropriate surroundings; until we are back in our usual places."

"There is someone whom I wish you to meet tonight," Minos stated as they began to walk into the house, making their way through the corridors to the family wing. "A young kinsman of ours who is, at least in part, responsible for our presence here… and for my daughter's escape from the city when it fell."

Laius frowned lightly.

"I believe I met a nephew of yours when we visited Atlantis, did I not?"

"Heptarian is no longer in the land of the living," Minos answered shortly. "He has descended into Hades."

"I am sorry for your loss," Laius offered.

"Do not be," Minos responded, his face hardening. "Heptarian proved to be disloyal. Whilst I was lying ill he manipulated Pasiphae into believing that Ariadne had committed treason and attempted to have her executed… all so that he could treasonously claim the throne for himself in the event of my demise."

"Indeed?" wondered Laius, with a glance at Pasiphae. From what he knew of her he would not have believed that she was easily manipulated. Still, he supposed, she was only a woman after all and subject to the frailties of her sex.

Pasiphae once again felt the small frisson of sorrow at the mention of her nephew. She had not truly loved him – had used him to achieve her own ends – and yet he _had_ still been her kin; her blood. Heptarian had come to her as a child – had at least in part been raised by her. It had scarcely been his fault that he could not live up to the memory of her lost child; that he could never replace her son in her affections. Then it struck her – Minos wanted Laius to meet Jason and had referred to him as a kinsman. She looked at her husband with scarcely concealed surprise.

"The young man who I wish you to meet is very different from Heptarian," Minos continued. He hesitated for a moment. "He has been raised far from our shores and as such is not well versed in our customs," he admitted. "The boy has come to us unexpectedly but is learning rapidly. I have so far refrained from introducing him to more than a handful of people… at least in part because we have not had the leisure to properly see to his education and training. He has, however, acquitted himself well at every task we have asked of him and I believe that the time is now right to begin to draw the boy forwards into polite society. I will warn you that Jason is… somewhat direct in his manner… forthright. If he believes in something he is not afraid to say it… to voice his opinion… no matter who it is that he is speaking to – or that it might be better for him to hold his tongue. It is a habit that we have yet to break him of. It would be easy to view such forthrightness as insolence and yet all I have come to know of the boy indicates that he is naïve and idealistic rather than insolent. For a young man past the age of majority there are times when he is almost breathtakingly innocent."

"You like this young man," Laius commented.

"I do," Minos acknowledged. "He has much yet to learn before I consider what place he might have in the future but I see much that is good in him which should be fostered. To that end I wish to begin to familiarise him with cultured society; to see him become comfortable in the presence of his equals. Jason is by nature a little shy and awkward with strangers. I would see him overcome that and I can think of no better way to do that than to introduce him to a few carefully selected allies. I am aware that there are those who would not react well to Jason's uninhibited nature and I would have him learn to temper that before he is fully introduced to our world. You are a friend Laius and I believe I can trust you not to take offence and to help me to guide the boy in the right direction."

"I am honoured that you think so highly of me," Laius answered with a smile as they came to a halt before the door to the room he was to occupy. "I will be interested to meet this semi-wild boy of yours."

"Jason is not wild," Pasiphae snapped, unable to stop herself from leaping to her son's defence. "He simply has not had the opportunity to spend much time in civilised company."

Minos laid a restraining hand on her arm.

"My love," he began.

"Forgive me," Laius said, raising her hand to his lips once more. "I meant no offence. I am sure that under your tutelage this young kinsman of yours will swiftly blossom and become a credit to his teachers."

"Perhaps I overreacted," Pasiphae murmured in response. "If you will excuse me I must speak with the servants preparing for tonight's feast."

"Of course," Minos responded. "Perhaps you would also be good enough to inform Jason that his presence will be required at the meal."

Pasiphae schooled her expression into a gracious smile.

"As you wish My Lord," she said.

* * *

Even after everything that had happened in the last few weeks there was still something wondrous about being so close to her son, Pasiphae mused – especially in his quiet moments when she could watch the flicker and play of emotions across his face and sense a peaceful contentment in every line of his body. Not that she could see his face at the moment of course. Jason was turned away from her, facing the window of his chambers, seemingly deeply engrossed in reading a piece of parchment.

Pasiphae paused. This was not the first time she had seen him reading in a quiet moment or had spotted reading materials in his chambers. Perhaps it was something that he enjoyed? There was still so much about the boy that she did not know; still so much that she could not predict – but Gods willing she had a lifetime to learn, she reminded herself.

"You needed to see me for something," the young man said without turning or even looking up.

Pasiphae started. How had he known she was there? She had made no sound as she had entered she was sure of it. Then she felt it: the stirring at the back of her mind; the little pull that came from somewhere deep inside and set her magic thrumming. She could feel him; sense his presence. It was a warmth that snaked up inside her. If she had not known it before she certainly would have now – Jason was touched by the Gods in the same way that she was. It called to her.

When she had spoken to him a few days ago of feeling a bond tethering them together she had been speaking merely of the bond of love that _any_ mother had with her son. This connection she was feeling now was something that went far deeper; something that could only be defined as magical.

She could only assume that she had failed to notice this feeling – this bond – before because there had been too much going on to allow her to sense it properly. From the moment Minos had taken Jason to meet Anaxandros there had been little time for her to focus on anything other than the moment, and her own recent injury had dulled her senses in the immediate aftermath. Injury or illness inevitably drained her magical energy as well as her physical energy (although her magical abilities – and being touched by the Gods of course – generally also prevented her from succumbing to common illnesses in the first place) and had prevented her from realising the strength of their connection until this moment.

It was clear, though, that she was not the only one who could feel the connection between them. Jason could sense her presence in the same way that she could sense his, she was certain of it. He could feel her too. Pasiphae paused for a moment. Would he acknowledge the fact though? If she tackled him directly, would he admit to feeling the connection? Would he accept that by virtue of the fact that he was touched by the Gods he had senses that went beyond the norm? If he would then it could be a way to reintroduce the topic of what she firmly believed were his newly emerging abilities; abilities that she suspected were growing stronger with each day that passed. As urgent as she believed the situation to be, however, it would do no good to push Jason too hard and too quickly. She dared not risk him clamming up and refusing to speak to her at all; completely refusing to acknowledge what was going on inside him.

She remembered only too well the fear that had encompassed her when she had first become aware of her powers; the forces that had surrounded her; the feeling of helplessness that had crept over her. There had been no-one to help her; no-one to guide her steps or explain things to her. She remembered how lonely she had been and knew that was how her son would be feeling. Knew that no matter how much he tried to hide it and to ignore the power that was growing in him, Jason would be very much afraid the more he became aware of his abilities; would fear both himself and the source of his powers; would perhaps even fear the reactions of other people (especially his friends) to his differences.

Although perhaps not, Pasiphae acknowledged. Jason seemed to care less for what people thought of him than she had; did not seem to be bothered by appearances or social positions. Despite the fact that she agreed with Minos that the boy was a little shy in nature Pasiphae also had to admit that Jason seemed remarkably comfortable with who he was and did not trouble himself with other people's opinions of him. Whilst she suspected that most of her predictions about the nature of his fears would prove only too accurate, perhaps he would not fear the reactions of others in the way she might expect.

Whatever happened though Pasiphae was determined that Jason would not face this alone. Possibly because there had been no-one to guide _her_ through the first frightening months as her powers had emerged, she was determined that Jason would not be left to deal with his own awakening on his own. All she had to do now was persuade him to open up to her – and that would be a task in itself.

"Is everything alright?"

She had hesitated too long, caught up with the shock of realising their bond and in her concerns for her son. Jason had turned fully to look at her, his worry for her written in his eyes. Pasiphae allowed her face to drop into a maternal smile.

"Nothing is amiss," she answered, her tone mellow.

"Then to what do I owe the pleasure?" Jason asked, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Not that I'm objecting but I thought you'd be off somewhere terrorising the servants now."

Pasiphae felt her smile widening. How different this was from their first uncertain and almost adversarial interactions at the Palace just a few weeks ago. Whereas Jason had been tense and suspicious then – at times bordering on insolent and contemptuous, and certainly full of anger – now he was relaxed and apparently genuinely happy to see her, his tone light and teasing.

"Do I need a reason to visit my son?" she asked lightly, crossing the room and sitting herself down opposite him. "We have had little time to grow to know one another better of late. I hoped that we might spend a little time together before I must speak to the servants in preparation for tonight's meal."

Jason put the parchment he was reading to one side.

"I'd like that," he said softly.

"I am glad," Pasiphae responded. "King Laius arrived a short time ago."

"Yeah, I know," Jason replied. "I saw."

"I thought I saw you ducking out of sight in the courtyard," his mother said. "What were you doing hiding in the shadows?"

Jason looked down at his hands.

"I didn't think you'd want… that is… I didn't know that anyone had arrived until I came into the courtyard and I didn't think you'd want to introduce me or anything… I didn't want to embarrass you," he finished quietly.

Pasiphae closed her eyes briefly. Much as she worried about the possibility of Jason committing a social faux pas in public she had never wanted him to know that.

"You believed I would be ashamed of you," she murmured. She reached out and cupped the side of her son's face with one slender hand. "You have no idea how wrong you are. I am so proud of you Jason. You are _my son_. These last few weeks so much has been asked of you and you have more than fulfilled both mine and the King's every hope. I will always regret the fact that I did not get the chance to know the child that you were, but I _am_ proud of the man that you have become."

She was rewarded by a wide-eyed, hopeful look that tugged at her heart. What had this boy done to her? How had he managed to work his way into her heart so completely?

"There will be always be times when I am less than patient with you," she found herself saying, "but do not doubt that I will always be proud to call you my son."

Jason inclined his head slightly.

"My Dad's friend Mac always said that I could try the patience of a saint," he said with a half-ashamed laugh.

Pasiphae frowned in confusion.

"It's just a saying," Jason clarified hurriedly before she could ask. "It just means that I could annoy even the calmest person without even trying." He hesitated for a moment. "I don't want to let you down," he said softly.

Pasiphae felt a little warm glow inside.

"And as long as you allow yourself to be guided you will not," she responded. "Speaking of such matters, Minos has asked me to inform you that your presence will be required at the supper table tonight."

Jason shot her a confused look.

"I normally have dinner with you," he pointed out. "I've got used to it now."

"I appreciate that but Minos wished to make sure that you would definitely be there this evening," Pasiphae stated firmly.

"Why?" Jason asked with growing suspicion.

"Tonight there is to be a feast in honour of King Laius' arrival," Pasiphae answered. "Minos wishes to introduce you to Laius. It will be more formal than the family meals you have grown accustomed to… although it will be far from as lavish or as large as formal occasions usually are in Atlantis. Remind me when we return home to show you the large dining room."

Jason tensed immediately.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," he said flatly.

"Your opinion is not actually required in the matter," Pasiphae informed him. "The King has demanded your presence and you _will_ attend."

"I didn't say I wouldn't come," Jason protested quietly. "It's just…"

He stood up and moved away from the Queen, arms wrapped firmly around his middle and head ducking almost automatically, his back turned towards his mother.

Pasiphae frowned and stood gracefully, coming up behind the young man and resting a firm hand on his shoulder. Jason turned his head to glance at her and she found her breath being taken away by the sheer unhappiness in his hazel eyes.

"I was never very good at parties," he admitted softly. "I was always the one that ended up sitting in a corner. I'm rubbish at small talk and I've always found having to make polite conversation with strangers awkward. I'm bound to mess up and say something I shouldn't or use the wrong knife or something."

"You will be fine," Pasiphae answered. "Your table manners are more than good enough for Laius' company and as long as you remember to keep your head up and speak clearly and politely when spoken to everything will be well… and _try_ not to argue with anyone for goodness sake. You may not agree with what Laius, or indeed anyone else, is saying to you but it is bad manners to show it in public. We need Laius' support – and his army – now more than ever and I would not have him offended in any way."

Jason grimaced.

"Trust me I don't _want_ to offend him," he answered. "I know how important getting everyone on side is… which is why I'm not sure I should be there tonight. I'm not good when there are lots of people around."

Pasiphae gave him a faintly amused look.

"You are worrying too much," she said. "There will be no more than fifteen or twenty people there tonight – a small gathering by our standards. It will simply be the King, myself, Ariadne and you, King Laius and the closest of his retinue, and a few of the nobility who have chosen to make their homes in Pagenia. I am aware that this will be your first true social engagement but it is something that you will have to become used to. Minos is being kind in introducing you to _civilised_ company at such a small gathering… do not make him regret it."

Jason's frown deepened. Did his mother really think that he was going to go out of his way to upset either his stepfather or any of the guests tonight? He opened his mouth to protest but before he could speak Pasiphae went on, her hand still warm on his shoulder, squeezing lightly as her thumb rubbed small circles on his back.

"All will be well I am sure," she said softly. "You managed to get through meeting the King's advisors for the first time and the meeting with Anaxandros without any disasters happening on your part. On both occasions Minos indicated that he was pleased with your conduct. This dinner should be a great deal more pleasant than both those meetings and you will not be on your own… I will be there – as will the King and Ariadne – and Laius is a good friend to Atlantis. Minos has already told him a little about you – has told him that you are a kinsman… if not the precise nature of our relationship – and he is already prepared to like you for our sakes."

Jason nodded silently.

"Just behave in the manner that I have instructed you in and everything will go easily," Pasiphae concluded. "I will see that suitable clothing is laid out for you," she added, eyeing his current attire with a raised eyebrow and a vague air of contempt.

Jason looked down at himself and blushed faintly.

"I wasn't planning on wearing this to dinner," he protested mildly.

"I am very glad to hear it," Pasiphae answered with asperity, "although I do wonder why it is exactly that you are wearing peasant's clothing when I know that more suitable garments have been provided."

Jason frowned. It was true that the clothes he was currently wearing were not as rich as the garments usually worn by members of the Atlantian royal family but they were far from being the rags that his mother seemed to be implying – and more importantly (at least to him) they were _his_ ; were the clothes he had arrived at the Palace in several weeks ago. He still felt more comfortable in his own things no matter what else might have been provided since – either at the Palace or here. Somehow, though, he still felt the need to explain; to justify himself.

"I went with Nisos to help with the set-up of the extension to the camp," he answered. "I didn't think it would be appropriate wearing anything nicer while I was putting up shelters and chopping wood. Plus I thought that if I wore my own clothes there would be less chance of anyone recognising me."

Pasiphae didn't fail to notice that he referred to the garments as his 'own clothes' and flinched a little at the implication. It worried her a little that he clearly still could not view the things she had provided as his.

"It would certainly not have been appropriate for anyone to have seen you doing such menial work," she snapped. "These are not tasks which are suitable for you to undertake. I fail to understand why you were even there."

"I'm not good at just sitting around," responded Jason a little defensively. "I need to be busy… to be useful. This seemed like the best thing I could do to help." He grimaced. "It's not as if I'm all that much use around here… diplomacy isn't exactly my strongest point."

"Indeed," Pasiphae retorted with heavy irony. "You do surprise me."

The hurt look that flashed across the young man's hazel eyes made Pasiphae pause for a moment.

"If you feel the need to be busy I am sure there are more suitable tasks that might be found," she said more gently. "It would not reflect well on the King if any of our allies were to discover that you were doing the work of a servant."

"I didn't think anyone was going to know," Jason began. "I mean, I didn't think Minos wanted anyone to be told who I am."

"Minos does not wish to force you into a position that you are not ready to accept," Pasiphae answered softly. "He will protect you as much as he can… as will we all… but the time may come Jason when he has no choice but to reveal to our allies exactly who you are and what your relationship is to him… and to me."

"I don't need protecting," Jason protested. "I'm an adult." Even as he spoke, however, his arms tightened around himself and he caught his lower lip between his teeth, gnawing at it. At Pasiphae's pointed look he released it again.

"Are you trying to convince me… or yourself?" Pasiphae responded. "I did not mean that you are unable to protect yourself," she went on, blatantly ignoring the scowl that Jason was throwing in her direction. "But you have made it clear that you do not wish anyone to know who you are." There was a hint of sadness in her tone.

"I'm sorry," Jason muttered. "I'm just not ready for that."

"I know," Pasiphae answered hoarsely, turning away from him.

She was startled to feel tentative fingers worming their way into her grasp; holding her hand lightly – anxiously. Reflexively Pasiphae looked down at her hand and then up into her son's earnest and gentle eyes.

"I am sorry," he said softly. "I know you want more from me. It's just that we've only really known one another for a few weeks and with everything that's been going on we haven't really had the chance to be… well… _normal_. Everything's happened so quickly. A month ago I knew exactly who I was and where I belonged. Then you came along and now everything's different. I don't know what's coming at me around the corner and to be honest that sort of scares me. It feels like my home in the city is calling to me at times and the thought of being bound by the rules of your court…" he shuddered involuntarily. "It feels like I'd be letting myself be imprisoned in a cage." Jason paused for a moment. "When I was growing up I didn't have an awful lot," he admitted.

Pasiphae felt herself nodding. Somehow she had expected that.

"When you don't have much you learn to value what you do have," Jason went on. "The one thing I always had was freedom… independence – sometimes maybe a bit too much independence for a child – and it became important to me… so the thought of giving that up – of choosing to live my life with everyone watching my every move – of never really being _free_ … that scares the hell out of me. I don't want to give up the life I've found – the _family_ I've found – with Hercules and Pythagoras… but I'm also not sure I want to give up on the relationship I'm starting to develop with _you_ either. You're not the type of mother I always thought I wanted but maybe you're what I _need_. I don't know yet what I want my future to be… where it will lie… but I do know that I want you to be in it." He looked down at their clasped hands. "I just don't feel like I can make any decisions about the future yet. I don't know enough about what normal life would entail with you. I'm not ready for the world to know who I am when I don't know myself yet."

"Very well," Pasiphae answered softly. "Then I will see what may be done so that you might learn what normal life is like in our home. I understand your desire to be busy and can see that you require ways to fill your time productively. To that end I believe that it is time to assess your levels of education."

"I've already been educated," Jason protested sharply.

"In the customs of the land that you have grown up in," Pasiphae responded smoothly, "but not in the customs of Atlantis. If you are to make an informed decision about your own future then it would be as well for you to learn what the role of a prince of Atlantis entails. I merely wish you to learn the customs of our people; our laws and history – _your_ history. Back in the Palace you expressed a desire to learn about our Gods, this is merely an extension of that. That is not _so_ unreasonable is it?"

Jason looked helplessly at her. Much as he hated to admit it what she was suggesting was not unreasonable. There had definitely been times over the last few months when his life would have been easier if he had known a little more about the rules of the society he had found himself in.

"Alright," he muttered.

Pasiphae smiled and reached up to caress his face.

"It will not be so bad," she said gently. "I will endeavour to engage a tutor who will be to your liking. For now I simply wish to learn where the gaps in your knowledge might be… and it may help you to feel a little more useful – and indeed _be_ a little more useful – if you understand a little more of what is going on around you." Her smile softened. "Come now. This was not the conversation I intended to have with you and my time is unfortunately short. We will discuss the matter more in the morning. For now, do not worry about the future. What will be will be. I must go and ensure that everything is in readiness for this evening's feast. I will send a servant to lay out the clothes I wish you to wear and will see you at dinner." Pasiphae raised one eyebrow imperiously. "Do not be late," she instructed firmly, although the hint of an amused smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"I'll try not to be," Jason answered with mock-solemnity.

"Do not be cheeky," Pasiphae ordered, batting him lightly on the arm in much the same way one might admonish a puppy. "I will expect to see you in good time."

Once she had swept from the room Jason sat down and stared unseeingly out of the window. What exactly was he letting himself in for? He remembered only too well the long days of school spent in stuffy, overheated classrooms and did not relish the thought of going back to that; had never fared well when cooped up for too long. And what was the betting that any tutor that his mother found was some dry and dusty old academic? She was probably right that he could do with learning a little more about Atlantis but he just wished there was a way that he could do it in his own way.

Then there was the dinner he was being expected to attend tonight. Jason grimaced at the thought. God but he hated having to make small talk. It didn't help that almost everyone there would be a stranger and that the guest of honour was a man who he knew had deliberately tried to send his infant son to his death (and as far as Laius knew he had succeeded). How exactly was Jason supposed to be polite to someone who had done that? By the same token though, Laius was a friend of Minos and a trusted ally – and they would desperately need his help in the weeks to come. Offending him was really not an option. Jason sighed. If he had to spend all evening biting his tongue it was what he would do. Minos and Pasiphae were both placing trust in him and he was determined not to let his parents down.

* * *

Dinner had gone very well all things considered. Pasiphae had been at her regal best and even Ariadne had managed to sit through an entire meal without sniping at her stepmother. Minos was not completely blind to the animosity between his wife and his beloved daughter no matter what people might think; he had grown used to the honeyed poison spread between the two. It did not mean that he liked it, however. Of late though there seemed to have been some sort of truce declared between Ariadne and Pasiphae. Not that they were friendly in any way but at least they no longer seemed to be in open warfare. Minos privately suspected that this rapprochement had a lot to do with the young man who had been sitting next to his daughter at dinner. A mutual desire between the Queen and the Princess to make Jason happy had a lot to answer for.

Tonight Ariadne had been graceful, elegant and softly spoken; the very image of a beautiful and delicate Princess. Minos had almost thought his heart would burst with pride. As for his stepson, Jason had done everything that had been asked of him. He had been polite and spoken clearly when spoken to. If he had not offered up any topics of conversation himself it hardly mattered. In fact it was possibly preferable that way – after all the boy's life experiences so far scarcely leant themselves to discussion in polite company. Minos shuddered at the thought of his stepson telling any sort of story about his life as a commoner in the city. Still he had behaved well so far this night. Minos made a mental note to speak with Pasiphae later to express his pleasure with how well she had taught the boy thus far.

Now though they were at the stage in the evening where the food was finished and the guests (or at least the important ones) had retired to a sitting room to mingle and make polite conversation while servants cleared away the detritus of the meal. Minos glanced around the room with pleasure. On the far side Pasiphae was charming Laius with her speech and manner, her silvery laugh carrying to her husband's ears, joined it seemed by one of the members of the town hierarchy who the Queen had deigned to invite for the evening; petty officials for the most part and their simpering wives who would dine out on the story of their brush with royal favour for years to come.

In a corner Ariadne was engaged in polite conversation with a man who bore a startling resemblance to a pig and his wife; a woman of distinctly middle years who had apparently squeezed herself into a dress that was at least two sizes too small, with overly elaborate hair and too much make-up. The Princess was as gracious and sweet as ever. She was apparently absorbed with the nasal whining of the petty official and listening to his conversation with interest. An occasional eye roll however – whenever the man and his wife were not looking – alerted her father to the fact that Ariadne was less than enthused by the encounter.

At her side, her stepbrother was trying his hardest to look interested. He had plastered the innocuous, friendly smile that so often stood him in good stead on his face, hiding behind it. As soon as supper had ended he and Ariadne had teamed up; the beautiful Princess seemingly determined to stay by his side and ensure that this evening ran as smoothly as possible. For that if nothing else Jason was inordinately grateful. The voice of the man in front of him was seriously grating on his nerves (already stretched to breaking point through having to attend this evening's feast) and he found his eyes almost involuntarily drawn to the ghastly spectacle of the man's wife; a woman who had been trying to flirt with him ever since the conversation began. Jason would admit to being a trifle naïve about such things at times but this woman was hardly trying to hide her interest. He swallowed down the urge to bolt, his nails biting viciously into his palm as he clenched one hand behind his back.

Finally the petty official ran out of topics to talk about and wandered off across the room with his wife in tow, attempting to attract the King's attention. Before anyone else could descend on them Jason excused himself, needing a few moments respite and a little fresh air. Ariadne smiled understandingly but suggested quietly that he might not want to take too long so that no-one felt the need to come searching for him.

The corridor was dark, cool and refreshing after the stuffy room he had come from. Jason moved to a window and looked out longingly at the courtyard below and the moonlit town beyond. God what he wouldn't give to escape outside right now. The only thing keeping him from slipping out was the knowledge that his leaving would undoubtedly embarrass both his mother and stepfather. The evening had seemed interminable so far. How much longer could it go on? How long were these awful little toadies and their whining wives intending to stay? He leant against the casement and took a few deep breaths of fresh air.

"You are the last person I would have expected to see at King Minos' table."

The deep voice behind him made him spin around, once more automatically on the defensive. Tiresias, King Laius' right hand man, had followed him from the sitting room and stood before him, a curious expression on his dour face.

Jason snorted.

"I'm the last person that expected to _be_ at King Minos' table," he answered ironically.

"I had certainly not thought that we would meet again," Tiresias went on. "What game were you playing when we met last?"

"Game?" Jason asked.

Tiresias allowed a faint, cold smile to show.

"King Laius informs me that you are a kinsman of Minos and Pasiphae," he responded. "Which leads me to ask why, when the Queen was so determined to help my King, you would defy her so openly and help to rescue the child. Why you would offer to take him from the city yourself. I had taken you for no more than a peasant – a brave peasant but a peasant none the less – and had not anticipated seeing you again."

"I could ask you the same," replied Jason. "Why would you defy the orders of your King? There's an ugly word they use for people who do that."

"I am aware that what I did could be described as treason," the old man answered, "yet sometimes a man must do what he believes to be right no matter what the consequences. To my eternal shame I helped the King to cast out the boy in the first place. I was merely putting right the wrongs I had done."

"We can agree on that at least," Jason murmured.

"I have served Laius loyally for many years… and hope to do so for many years to come. The King is not a bad man… merely one who fears the words of the Oracle and the Gods." He looked at Jason shrewdly. "You have still not answered my question… My Lord," he pointed out.

"As you said, sometimes a man must do what he believes to be right," Jason answered. "To abandon a child that way… to leave him to die… it's wrong. There can't _ever_ be a good reason to do that."

"You do not approve of casting out unwanted or unhealthy children," Tiresias stated flatly. "Yet there are times when there is no other option. If the child has no chance of survival then it is as well not to waste valuable resources on it. That is what we tell ourselves."

"I can't accept that," Jason retorted sharply. "There can _never_ be an excuse for abandoning a child in that way."

Tiresias sighed.

"As it happens I agree with you," he said quietly, "but society would not… and there is little that one man can do to change the minds of society. I cannot change the world… I can only live in it."

"It's not right," Jason said stubbornly, turning back to the window.

"No," Tiresias agreed, stepping up to his shoulder, "it is not."

The silence stretched between them. Presently Tiresias glanced across at his companion.

"Why _were_ you posing as a peasant?" he asked.

Jason laughed humourlessly.

"I wasn't posing as anything," he said. "This," he gestured around himself, "is pretty recent. I only found out that I'm related to the Queen a few weeks ago."

"So it is Her Majesty that you are kinsman to then?" Tiresias murmured. "It is of no matter I suppose," he went on in answer to Jason's sharp look. "I believe that it will be best if we had never met," he said firmly. "If we meet again we must be strangers… must not acknowledge that we have even seen one another in the past. Any suspicion of any acquaintance between us could be hazardous to us both. No-one – especially the Queen – must _ever_ learn of the way in which we first met or the enterprise we were both engaged in."

"Very well," Jason answered.

"Then I will leave you My Lord," Tiresias responded. "I will wait for my King to formally introduce us in the future."

As he left, Jason let out the breath he had been unconsciously holding. He supposed he really ought to be heading back into the sitting room and the gathering inside. Just a few more minutes of peace and sanity would be nice though. Without another thought he slipped through a door slightly further down the corridor from the one to the sitting room where everyone was gathered.

The room he found himself in was a smaller sitting room than the one he had left. It was also deserted; silent and peaceful. Jason smiled to himself and padded on quiet feet to a half-concealed deeply recessed window seat on the far side of the room, settling himself into it. He wasn't intending to stay here for long – just long enough to regroup and relax enough to let him get through the rest of the evening as easily as possible.

He'd barely settled into place, however, when the door to the room opened. Jason sighed inaudibly and scrunched down a little more into the seat, hoping to avoid the attention of whoever had come in. If they knew he was here and spoke to him directly he would respond, of course – but if they weren't actually looking for him then he would try to avoid the encounter.

"Does your husband, the King, appreciate you properly?" the voice which reached Jason's ears was very smooth.

"Minos knows my worth," Pasiphae's equally smooth response came softly.

Jason frowned and peered around the edge of the recess where he was sitting. King Laius moved across the room at a stately pace – very different from his usual stride – with Pasiphae at his side, her hand on top of his. The moonlight streaming in through the window caught the golden circlet he wore at his brow and bathed his face in soft light. He was dressed much as usual, although the heavy golden himation fastened at his right shoulder and draped over his left arm indicated both his status and the formality of the evening.

Together the Theban King and the Atlantian Queen stepped towards the window. There they stopped. Pasiphae gazed out of the casement, a soft and knowing smile playing at her lips. Laius stood behind her and brought his hands up to rest on her upper arms, his chest to her back. Jason felt his face begin to burn, a slowly growing anger twisting his guts. This was his mother for goodness sake; his _married_ mother. How dare Laius behave this way? The man was married as well. It was just plain wrong – especially with Minos just a few doors away. Minos had proved to be kind over the last few weeks and somehow Jason couldn't bear to see him betrayed in this manner.

"How is Jocasta?" Pasiphae asked, stepping out from under Laius' hands and moving to lie on a long, low couch.

Laius stiffened and moved to the window.

"She is… cold," he responded. "Since the loss of the boy she no longer looks on me as she once did."

"Give it time My Lord," Pasiphae advised. "Jocasta is very young but she will learn. Another child may not fully replace the one she has lost but it might help to distract her from her grief a little."

"Perhaps," acknowledged Laius. "The Gods have not seen fit to bless us with another child though."

"There is still time," Pasiphae responded. "It is only a few months since the boy was born. Other children will come in time if the Gods will it."

"My family is cursed," Laius stated morosely. "We must have offended the Gods in some way but I do not know how."

"The Gods need no reason for their cruelty. They delight in tormenting men." Pasiphae paused and looked seriously at the Theban King. "Do not regret what happened, Laius," she said. "You had no choice."

"Perhaps," Laius acknowledged.

He came to stand beside the couch and took Pasiphae's outstretched hand, raising it to his lips, unaware of the pair of burning eyes that were watching from the window seat on the far side of the room.

"I would that Jocasta were like you," Laius murmured. "She cannot hope to rival your grace and elegance. She is but a pale shade by comparison."

"You are very kind, My Lord," Pasiphae responded, "but Jocasta is very beautiful."

"She has nothing of your poise or wit," Laius answered. "She is like the lygos flower, chaste and virtuous, but you are like the rose, bright symbol of Aphrodite; of love itself. She is no more than a shy girl but you are a woman."

"You flatter me."

"I speak nothing but the truth." Laius lifted her hand to his lips once more.

"Jocasta will learn as I did," Pasiphae answered. "I was once a young bride. It takes time to grow into the role of Queen."

"It is a role that you fill admirably. I doubt that Jocasta will ever be your equal."

Pasiphae gave a gracious smile.

"She may surprise you yet," she murmured. "Let us talk of the present though." She arched a delicate eyebrow. "Tomorrow Minos will ask for your support; for your backing against the Amphigeneians. Will he have it?"

"He will," Laius confirmed. "Your husband is a good man and has been a good friend to Thebes. I will give aid in any way I may to see you both restored to your rightful places."

"He may wish you to help convince some of our less… dedicated allies to give their aid also."

"And I will do so gladly," Laius declared. "Whatever I can do to help you both, I will."

Pasiphae reached up and clasped his hand in between hers.

"I thank you, My Lord," she said. "I will not forget this kindness."

"I pray that we may see each other again under more pleasant circumstances," Laius said. "I would like nothing more than to entertain both you and the King at my court in Thebes. If nothing else I owe Minos a return hunting trip."

"Perhaps you might hunt while you are here," Pasiphae suggested. "It would do Minos good to forget his cares for a day... and we must wait for our other allies to arrive before any serious decisions can be made."

"Perhaps," Laius agreed. "If the Gods are willing. Once any affairs of state that we might conduct without the presence of our allies are concluded it might be pleasant to spend a day at leisure… If there is any game to be found in the hills around here that is."

"I have it on good authority that there is good hunting to be found no more than a league to the south," Pasiphae murmured. "My sources tell me that there is an area of woodland which contains both deer and boar. You should find it entertaining enough."

Laius smiled.

"And will you be joining us My Lady?" he asked. "You were once keen to remind me that Artemis herself was a woman and to suggest that you wished to hunt at my side."

"I am afraid I will be unable to join you on this occasion," Pasiphae answered. "I received an injury in our escape from the city. By the grace of the Gods I have been largely healed but I fear the exertion of the hunt would be unwise at present."

"A shame," Laius murmured. "That is a pleasure that I will have to look forward to for your visit to my kingdom then."

"That will be something for us both to look forward to," Pasiphae answered with a slight smile. She looked around. "We must return to the gathering soon," she said. "Minos will wonder where we have gone if we are absent for much longer and there are those present who would take pleasure in pointing out my absence to him."

"You have enemies?"

"We all have enemies Laius," Pasiphae answered bluntly. "You should know that as well as anyone. There are always those who will be jealous of anyone who is in a position of power or authority – or who is perceived to be socially superior. Such people are generally of little threat however if you know how to deal with them properly."

"You are a truly remarkable woman," Laius murmured admiringly, moving his hand to rest lightly on the Queen's shoulder.

"I am flattered that you think so," Pasiphae responded.

With one graceful, sinuous movement she stood up and took Laius' hand, ready to leave the chamber.

"I hope that there will be other opportunities for us to spend a little time together whilst we are here," Laius stated.

"I will look forwards to it My Lord," Pasiphae answered as they swept from the room.

Once they had gone Jason slowly uncurled himself from the window seat where he had remained unseen for the duration of the conversation. Anger bubbled inside him. Laius had _no right_ to be trying to flirt with Pasiphae like that. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down a little. It would do no good whatsoever to return to the gathering in a foul temper – and return he must. Ariadne had already told him that people would begin to look for him if he was absent for too long and that that was something he should try to avoid if at all possible. He'd already been gone too long really but needed just a couple more minutes to pull himself together.

He'd been stupid, he told himself. Had let himself be seduced by the idea of having a mother; had allowed the maternal concern that Pasiphae seemed to be showing lull him into a false sense of security. But what if it wasn't real? What if the kindness she had shown him was no more than an act? A manipulation to suit her own purposes?

The woman he had just seen in here speaking with King Laius bore little resemblance to the mother who had apparently worried about him when he had disappeared from the Temple or who had sat with him in his rooms talking easily just this afternoon. So which was the real Pasiphae? Had his longing for a family of his own blinded him to her wicked side?

And she could be wicked – he knew that only too well; was ruthless when crossed. Yet somehow, every time he tried to remember her bad points, his mind kept straying back to the mother who had climbed up onto the bed next to him when he had been ill and tried to provide as much comfort as she could. Jason sighed. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn't seem to stay angry with his mother; desperately hoped that there was some sort of logical and rational explanation for her apparent betrayal of her marriage to Minos.

She hadn't let Laius actually _do_ anything though, Jason sternly reminded himself. All that had really happened was a little flirting and some hand holding (and hand kissing). Perhaps Pasiphae never intended it to go too far? Perhaps she was simply playing along for the sake of the alliance and the troops that the Theban King could bring? After all she had made sure that Jason understood that they really could not afford to offend Laius. Somehow Jason found himself hoping so both for her sake and for his stepfather's.

But just how was he supposed to go back to the main gathering and exchange pleasantries with King Laius? A man who to all intents and purposes seemed to be trying to rip Jason's family apart on what could really be no more than a whim. Medusa had said that Laius had a roving eye and now he had seen the proof for himself. Could he go into the sitting room and be polite and courteous to a man who he firmly believed he had every reason to despise?

Yes, he decided, he could; he had to for the sake of Atlantis and its King. Minos was relying on him not to cause any offence – to be polite – although it had to be said that he was still more than a little uncertain as to why the King had been so insistent on Jason's presence in the first place. Atlantis needed all the allies she could get right now and if that meant that Jason had to show the correct level of deference to Laius (as opposed to his natural instinct which was just to punch the man for his behaviour) then that was what he would do.

Decision made he squared his shoulders and made his way back to the sitting room. The room was emptier than it had been, he immediately noticed. A few of the guests had already departed it appeared. It was getting late after all. Ariadne appeared at his elbow as soon as he entered, smiling at him gently, although her eyes betrayed her curiosity about where he had been.

"You've been gone a long time," she said softly. "I think my father was about to send a servant to find you."

"Sorry," Jason answered. "I was detained."

Ariadne frowned at his response.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

"Nothing to worry about," Jason responded with an approximation of a smile.

Before Ariadne could question him any further Minos spotted them and strode over.

"Ah, Jason," he said. "I was looking for you."

"Forgive me Your Majesty," Jason replied. "I went to get a little air and was unavoidably held up."

Minos frowned. What could have kept the boy?

"No matter I suppose," he answered with vague suspicion lacing his tone. "There is someone that I would like you to meet however." He turned and gestured to a figure behind him. "Laius," he said. "This is Jason… the young man I have been telling you about."

Laius stepped from behind Minos with a superior smile.

"Jason," he said in well-modulated tones. "I am glad to make your acquaintance. King Minos has been telling me all about you." His eyes flicked up and down the young man in front of him and registered a faint amusement.

Jason resisted the urge to blush or look awkwardly at his feet, reminding himself that this was a man who had tried to arrange the death of his own infant son and who believed all women were his natural prey – Jason had nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about in _his_ presence. Instead he made the short, formal bow his mother had instructed him on back at the Palace.

"Your Majesty," he responded formally, his tone respectful but his eyes as cold as winter. "I've heard plenty about you too."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N Thank you all so, so much for your reviews. I really wasn't sure anyone would still be reading so it was lovely to see that people still are :-)

I wanted to get this chapter out in time for Christmas. I hope you all enjoy it. Please let me know if you do.

Oh and Merry Christmas to you all!

* * *

It was growing late now and most of the guests had long since wound their weary way home, leaving the royal family alone with only Laius and his chief advisor, Tiresias. Pasiphae smiled to herself in satisfaction of an evening well done. The local _nobles_ (she supposed she had to call them that although they scarcely fit the bill and would certainly never have been received at the court in Atlantis) had gorged themselves on the feast and fawned over the royal family and their equally royal guest to their hearts content. They would look back on this evening for years and would bore everyone around them with tales of how the King had favoured them above all others; how he had sought them out to listen to their wise council or had sympathised with their petty problems. It wouldn't be true of course, but it would be how they remembered it and would keep them happy for years to come.

The only reason Pasiphae had had for inviting such an inferior class of nobility in the first place had been to make up numbers and convince Laius and his retinue that the hospitality of their home and their place in the affections of their people had not been lessened by their recent misfortunes. Pasiphae was no fool and realised that she (and indeed the King) was more feared than loved by the general populous (and did not really care if the truth be told) but appearances needed to be maintained if they were to convince their allies that they had a viable chance of regaining all they had lost.

Laius had been wined and dined and was now sitting, replete and comfortable, discussing the quality of the wine produced on the royal estate here in Pagenia with Minos. Pasiphae had the feeling that he was hoping for a gift of a few amphorae to send back to Thebes. Well, she could oblige him in that with very little effort or cost to herself. She made a mental note to speak with Alexarchos in the morning and present Laius with a dozen or so amphorae of the most recent vintage. Perhaps a few jars packed with the superior quality olives that Atlantis was famous for wouldn't go amiss either. Pasiphae smiled again.

From his position near to her husband, Laius raised his cup of wine in silent salute to the Queen. Pasiphae acknowledged this with a slight inclination of her head. The Theban King was so easy to manipulate, she noted to herself clinically. A little flirting and flattery went a very long way with him. Although Minos would never be aware of her actions, he at least had the guaranteed and invaluable support of Laius.

The Queen settled a little more deeply into her seat. Gods she was tired. It was annoying that the Amphigeneian inflicted injury was still sapping her strength so much. It wasn't so bad that she couldn't hide her weariness from the guests at dinner of course (or from Laius and his damnably clever advisor) but, still, she would be glad to see her bed at the end of this evening.

Yes, an evening well done indeed. Even the children had played their parts well. Not that she would have expected any less of Ariadne of course (much as Pasiphae might find the girl annoying she had to admit that Ariadne's sense of decorum was finely tuned) but Jason was must definitely still an unknown quantity (and the Queen found herself deploring the fact that she could not predict his reactions to any given situation yet). It would come, she sternly reminded herself. The more she came to know him the more she would understand him. All it would take was time and patience – something which Pasiphae tried hard to cultivate. She had played the game of power and politics over many years now and had learned to her cost early on that hasty actions and rash behaviour often resulted in poor outcomes. Still, patience was not a virtue which came easily to her and she found herself having to remind herself frequently to simply give Jason time rather than push him too hard.

For now she smiled to herself. Jason had fulfilled the King's every wish this evening. He had managed to remain polite and, in his own way, charming in spite of his fears for how the evening would go. Of course the nobles within the court in Atlantis were likely to prove far more of a challenge than the sycophantic petty officials and toadying minor nobility all trying to curry favour with the royal family here in Pagenia. Nevertheless for a first official occasion – for his first time at a royal feast – Jason had done very well. Minos had drawn Pasiphae to one side shortly after the main body of the guests had left to congratulate her on how well she had tutored the boy and to ensure that she would pass his pleasure on to Jason as well.

Now that the guests had gone, however, something had changed within the atmosphere. At first Pasiphae could not put her finger on it. She looked about herself with a carefully schooled regal smile hiding a faint frown. Minos and Laius were still deep in pleasant conversation so the source of the Queen's sudden disquiet was not coming from there. Nearby Ariadne was speaking with Tiresias, a polite but distant smile gracing her beautiful features. As Pasiphae watched she turned slightly, clearly feeling eyes on her, and glanced at her stepmother, stiffening slightly in response to the scrutiny, her eyes both suspicious and questioning. Pasiphae nodded for her to continue. Ariadne might be an insufferable brat to the Queen's eyes but she was nothing if not proper in polite society.

Still attempting to seem casual, Pasiphae allowed her eyes to drift towards her son. Far from attaching himself to Ariadne's side as his mother had half expected him to do, Jason had retreated into the half-shadows on the far side of the fire as soon as the guests had gone. Pasiphae supposed that she could not entirely blame him and he _had_ allowed himself to be drawn forwards into the conversation whenever it had flowed in his direction; remaining polite and answering any questions clearly. Most of the time he had seemed to be content to watch and listen without actively taking part in the conversation and, as observing the interaction between Minos and Laius would be a good way for the lad to learn, Pasiphae had simply let him be.

Every time she had glanced towards the boy he had been listening intently, smiling when required and generally being as agreeable as the situation demanded. Now that he thought no-one was looking, however, Jason looked totally different; had allowed what his mother realised with something of a shock was a carefully constructed mask to slip away. The look he was directing at Laius was at best contemptuous and the expression on his face was borderline murderous. As Pasiphae watched, Minos turned to say something to Jason and his more usual, innocuous expression slipped seamlessly back into place before the King even noticed anything was wrong.

Pasiphae blinked in surprise. Jason had always seemed so open – so honest – that it was a shock to realise that he was in any way potentially deceitful. She would never have believed that the boy could hide his feelings or his emotions so well yet from the way she had seen his expression change in the blink of an eye it was more than clear that he could. So how often had he lied to her? How often had he hidden behind a mask and carefully concealed his feelings? She knew so little of him really, she reminded herself bitterly. Had Jason been hiding the truth of who he really was and how he really felt for the whole time that they had known one another?

And come to that, why exactly _had_ he been looking at Laius with such derision in his eyes? Pasiphae wracked her brains for something that might have happened that evening that would account for Jason's clear dislike of the Theban King. They could not have come into contact before this evening and try though she might the Queen could not think of one single solitary event which might have sparked her son's disdain.

"I understand from King Minos that you were not raised in Atlantis, Jason," Laius said softly.

"No," Jason answered quietly. "I am told I was born in Atlantis but I was raised far from here."

"And where exactly were you raised?" Laius queried. "Perhaps I might know it."

"I doubt it," the young man said quickly. "It's a land far to the north of here. Beyond the sea."

"Beyond the sea?" Laius responded with his eyebrows raised. "Beyond the borders of Greece you mean?"

As Jason inclined his head in agreement the Theban King continued.

"The lands of the barbarians are to the far north," he said. "But you hardly seem like one of those savages."

"Appearances can be deceptive," Jason answered, but his tone was light and amused and a wry smile graced his lips.

Pasiphae could not help but notice that the smile did not quite reach his eyes, however – they were sharp and hard; cold as ice; probing.

"Take you for example," the young man went on.

"Me?" Laius sounded both amused and vaguely affronted.

Pasiphae stiffened. What in the name of the Gods did Jason think he was doing?

"Yes," Jason responded. "You don't quite fit the traditional image of a king; he fits it better than you do," he nodded towards the listening Tiresias. "Yet here you are, King of Thebes… a royal lord of many… _talents_ … and here I am… and I am no more a barbarian than you are a commoner."

Laius laughed then and Pasiphae let out the breath she was unconsciously holding. The Theban King seemed to think that Jason was making a joke, the Queen was grateful to realise. Yet she had caught the barb in her son's tone and knew that whatever game Jason thought he was playing she would have to bring it to a rapid close.

"The boy is pert," Laius remarked to Minos.

"The boy is not a boy," Jason retorted.

"I intended no offence," Laius answered quickly.

"And I take none," Jason answered. He chuckled lightly. "I am joking of course. No-one could mistake you for a commoner My Lord. You are every inch a king."

Laius laughed again.

"Your parents are still in the place where you were raised?" he asked.

Jason flicked a quick glance towards Pasiphae.

"No," he said. "I didn't know my mother when I was growing up. I was always told she died shortly after I was born. My father didn't like to speak of her."

"And what of your father?"

Jason hesitated for a moment. Angry though he still was at his father he hated the thought that anyone else, particularly someone as morally bankrupt as Laius seemed to be, would think badly of the man; hated to say anything that might lower other people's opinions of his long idolised dad.

"He disappeared when I was a child," he answered shortly. "Went away and didn't come back. It's a long time ago now."

"A sad story," Laius proclaimed.

"Hardly unique," Jason responded. "There are lots of children in the world who grow up without parents for one reason or another."

"Yes, but for a man to abandon his son in that way… what man would do that?" Laius shook his head seriously.

"I wouldn't think that it's any worse than exposing an infant," Jason retorted sharply. He knew he was bating Laius, coming perilously close to letting slip secrets that he knew he had to keep, but the man's attitude grated on him; right now he seemed to be the worst type of hypocrite.

"Exposing an infant is a time honoured tradition and is never done without good reason," Laius replied. "Oftentimes the child will be too weak to survive… subnormal in some way… or there may be _social_ reasons why they cannot be raised within a family."

"Born out of wedlock you mean," Jason said, snorting contemptuously. "And that makes it alright to condemn a baby to a slow, painful death does it? To leave them to starve or be ripped apart by wild animals?"

"A child who has been exposed is not necessarily condemned to die," Laius argued. "They may be found by someone and taken in. Their fate is in the hands of the Gods."

"The chances of that aren't exactly high though are they?" Jason said. "At least my father didn't leave me to _that_ fate."

"Jason," Pasiphae said warningly, glaring at her son.

Laius turned towards Minos.

"You were right," he murmured. "You warned me that he was forthright. Tell me," he continued, turning back to Jason, "why do you object to this so much? Surely there must be similar customs in the land where you were raised?"

"No," Jason answered. "I'd never even heard of anything like this until I came here… but it's inhuman."

"You have the courage of your convictions at least," Laius observed. "There are few who would dare to voice such an opinion publically."

Jason flushed slightly and looked down.

"Forgive me My Lord," he said flatly. "I do not mean to offend anyone."

"It would take a little more than an outspoken opinion on a random subject to offend me," Laius responded with apparent amusement. "You have the idealism of youth and the nerve to voice your beliefs. I cannot fault you for that... although some might call such outspokenness foolhardy." He took another sip from the cup in his hands. "This is a truly excellent wine," he complemented Minos.

"I will see that a supply is laid aside for you to take when you return to Thebes My Lord," Pasiphae said smoothly, keen to ensure that Laius remained as happy as possible.

"You are very kind," Laius murmured, casting a warm look in her direction.

"And how is your wife My Lord?" Ariadne's clear voice rang out, her tone faintly arch.

Inwardly Pasiphae groaned. Although she knew that her stepdaughter was too well trained in the intricacies of court life to ever make a scene, she also knew that Ariadne was more than capable of making biting comments while still appearing polite and gracious; of spreading honeyed poison with an innocent face. Now that the Queen had Laius exactly where she wanted him – had extracted a promise for unconditional help and support – the last thing she needed was the two children playing up and jeopardising everything. Jason she would deal with privately to find out what game he had been playing, but Ariadne would need to be neutralised now. Not that she would publically embarrass or admonish the girl of course, but perhaps she needed to be reminded that Laius was an ally no matter what her own personal feelings might be.

"Jocasta is very well thank you," Laius replied. "She was sorry not to be making this journey with me but it is hardly appropriate for a woman to be travelling into a war zone. She could hardly help with the military side of affairs and would only prove a distraction at times when I will need to concentrate."

"You believe that a woman cannot understand military strategy?" Ariadne asked softly.

"A woman is a delicate creature," Laius answered. "She requires protection and care. Her mind does not work in the same way that a man's does. She has no place on the battlefield."

Pasiphae saw Jason beginning to bristle with every word that Laius uttered. Seemingly casually she stood up and crossed to the couch he was sitting on in the semi-shadows on the far side of the fire. Sitting herself down beside him she shot him a warning look that promised dire retribution if he said anything impolite or out of turn right now. She watched her son swallow down whatever retort he had been intending to say and smiled to herself. On the whole he was such a good boy really. The set of his shoulders was still tense and unhappy however. Pasiphae surreptitiously slipped her hand over his, squeezing lightly in reassurance.

"What of the Amazons My Lord?" Ariadne responded. "I believe they might dispute your claim that a woman has no place on the battlefield."

"The Amazons are savages," Laius proclaimed. "No well-bred or right thinking woman would wish to emulate them."

"Perhaps," Ariadne acknowledged, "but there might be circumstances in which a woman might be forced to engage in a battle. For instance when Atlantis was under attack and Amphigeneian troops were in the Palace I took up a bow to defend myself… was I wrong to do so?"

"There were other women fighting out in the streets as well," Jason added. "They were defending their homes and their families… defending their honour."

"I appreciate that under extreme circumstances a woman might be forced into a position where she has no choice but to defend herself by any means possible," Laius responded. "But I cannot believe that it is right for a man to allow any woman in the cold light of day to join a military expedition. The presence of a woman in a camp full of soldiers would only act to inflame the men and cause unnecessary discord. Besides, women are not educated in strategy in the same way that men are. They could have little to add to any council of war."

"On that point I feel I must disagree with you," Minos interjected. "My own Queen will hardly have been formally schooled in the art of war and yet I would never dream of holding a council of war without her at my side. Her insights and advice are invaluable to me." He smiled fondly at Pasiphae.

"Queen Pasiphae is indeed a rare and gifted woman," Laius agreed, looking between Pasiphae and Minos. "But Jocasta is… not so exceptional. I do not believe that she has any desire for a role other than the one she fulfils now; looking after my home, entertaining my guests and bearing and raising any children that the Gods may see fit to bless us with in the future."

"You have no children then My Lord?" Jason asked softly.

"No," Laius replied shortly. "We do not."

"That's a shame," Jason murmured, trying to keep the irony out of his voice and on the whole succeeding. "I'm sure any children you had would be… well looked after."

"I would love to have a son," Laius admitted. "There _was_ a boy for a short time but he is gone."

"I'm sorry," Jason responded. "To lose a child… no mother should have to go through it."

Without turning he squeezed his own mother's hand gently, unseen by the other occupants of the room. Pasiphae swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat and kept the impassive mask she usually wore firmly in place. Then she stiffened as the young man at her side gave a sharp cough. It worried her slightly that Jason still seemed to be struggling to shake off the last lingering after effects of the chill he had had in the hunting lodge. She did not miss the concerned look that passed between her husband and stepdaughter either and wondered almost idly if her son knew just how many people worried about his wellbeing now.

Laius frowned.

"You are unwell?" he asked.

"No," Jason responded a little breathlessly. "Not really. I had a bad chest a little while ago and I've just got to get rid of the last of it." He looked at the Theban King seriously, suddenly aware of the worried looks he was getting from Ariadne. "It's fine… _really_. I just cough a bit when I'm cold or tired," he admitted. "So on that note, if you'll all excuse me, I think I'm going to go to bed. It's getting late."

"Of course," Minos said. "Sleep well."

"Thank you," Jason answered, pushing himself up from the couch. "It was nice to meet you," he lied, looking at Laius with as much sincerity as he could muster.

"And you also," Laius retorted. "I hope we will have time to speak with one another again."

Jason nodded awkwardly and turned to leave.

"Jason," Pasiphae's voice was clear; her tone clipped. "Wait a moment. I will accompany you." She turned towards her husband. "The hour is indeed late," she said, "and I believe I will retire also."

"As you wish My Love," Minos answered.

Ariadne also stood gracefully.

"Goodnight Father," she said warmly.

Minos came forwards and caught his daughter in his arms.

"Sleep well," he said softly. "I love you more than _anything_."

"And I you," Ariadne responded, kissing her father lightly on the cheek.

The walk to Ariadne's chambers was a short one. Pasiphae remained silent, mulling over the evening in her head. At the door to her stepdaughter's room she bid the girl goodnight and turned away, keen to have a short but to her mind necessary discussion with her son and not wanting to have it in a corridor where they might still be disturbed or overheard (however unlikely that seemed).

Pasiphae's desire for a quick goodnight was thwarted, however. Ariadne, it seemed, had other ideas. She stepped forwards towards Jason with a soft smile, her eyes warm and affectionate.

"I have enjoyed your company this evening," she said gently.

"Thank you," Jason answered.

"For what?"

"You're about the only thing that made it bearable," Jason said softly. "I thought all those toadies and their awful wives were never going to leave."

Ariadne laughed lightly.

"You will grow accustomed to it," she asserted gently. "Besides, I think you made quite an impression on some of the guests… one in particular." Her dark eyes sparkled impishly.

Jason looked vaguely confused.

"The woman in the rather tight dress," Ariadne clarified. "She seemed very taken with you."

She nearly laughed at the growing horror on Jason's face.

"She was ghastly," Jason stated.

"Oh I do not know," Ariadne murmured mischievously, her tone light and teasing. "Perhaps I should ask Father to invite her and her husband to dinner again."

Jason spluttered – a splutter which rapidly turned into a short barking cough. Ariadne's face darkened with concern; one hand reaching out to rest on Jason's upper arm.

"I'm fine," Jason tried to reassure the Princess. "Just a bit tired."

"Then I will bid you goodnight," Ariadne answered gently. "Sleep well."

"And you too," Jason responded.

Pasiphae cleared her throat loudly.

"Goodnight Ariadne," she said pointedly.

Ariadne gave one last sweet smile to Jason and slipped into her room.

Jason turned and looked steadily at his mother. Could she have been any more obvious about trying to get rid of the Princess? Pasiphae returned his look with a raised eyebrow and gestured imperiously down the corridor, clearly intending that her son should make his way to his chambers without any further hesitation.

At the door to Jason's room she paused and gestured for him to enter, following closely behind and closing the door firmly behind her. If Jason was in anyway surprised by her actions he did not show it.

The chamber itself was warm; the cheerfully crackling fireplace providing the only light. On the table in the corner there was a small covered pan and an empty cup with what appeared to be a note attached. Jason frowned slightly and made his way over to it, momentarily forgetting his mother's presence. _I thought you might need this_ , the note read in Pythagoras' distinctive handwriting. Jason raised the lid of the pot and sniffed. The spicy scent of the milky drink his father used to make hit his nostrils and made him smile.

"Pythagoras you're a star," he murmured to himself as he lifted the pot towards the fire to warm it through, making the mental note to thank his friend profusely in the morning.

Behind him, Pasiphae cleared her throat pointedly again. Jason turned towards her, suppressing a sigh as he did. Much as he knew that his mother would want to discuss the events of the evening (and probably point out all the deficiencies in his manners, he thought somewhat uncharitably) he had rather hoped that she would be willing to wait until the morning. He was still angry at her (although it had to be said that the bulk of his anger was reserved for Laius) and he hadn't been lying when he said he was tired. In fact all Jason really wanted to do tonight was to slip into bed with the warm drink Pythagoras had provided and to try to sort out his tangled thoughts enough to get some sleep.

He looked at the Queen standing at the end of his bed and winced. Pasiphae had drawn herself up to her full height and crossed her arms, her face unreadable but her carriage rigid and forbidding. She gestured wordlessly to Jason to sit down.

Jason did as he was bid but not before retrieving the now warm pan from the fire and pouring the contents into the cup on the table. He took a long sip and sighed in contentment as the warmth of the drink spread through his chest and eased muscles that he had not even really registered were aching.

Pasiphae seated herself opposite him and stared at the young man for a moment with a raised eyebrow.

"On the whole you did very well this evening," she stated firmly.

Jason braced himself for the 'but' he was sure was coming.

"I would ask, though, what exactly you thought you were doing speaking to Laius in the way that you did," Pasiphae went on.

"I don't know what you mean," Jason replied guiltily – although why he should feel guilty in any way he didn't know.

"Oh yes you do." Pasiphae's voice was like a metal trap springing shut. "You know exactly what I am talking about and you knew exactly what you were saying. I told you we needed Laius' support and you set out deliberately to goad him… to argue with him."

"I don't like him," Jason answered shortly.

"So I gathered," Pasiphae retorted. "I saw the look on your face when you thought that nobody was looking. Nobody was asking you to like Laius, Jason, but I distinctly recall instructing you to be polite and not to argue with him no matter how much you might disagree with his opinions. You may not have liked what he was saying but he is of royal blood and it was your duty to show him the respect that his position demands."

"Why?" Jason asked sharply. "Why should I show him any respect when he doesn't show any to anyone else? Particularly the King?"

Pasiphae snorted an incredulous laugh.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded. "Laius and Minos are friends and have been for many years. He has been a guest in our home before. If nothing else common courtesy dictates that you should be polite to him. After all he is the guest of the King. Even Ariadne understands this so why can you not see it?"

Jason could feel his temper coming close to the surface and fought to keep a tight hold on it.

"I saw you," he blurted.

"I beg your pardon?" Pasiphae responded icily. "Explain."

"I slipped out of the room earlier to get a little air," Jason answered. "I needed to get away from the crowd for a few minutes so I went into a sitting room further down the corridor."

Pasiphae felt the first stirrings of unease. Surely no-one had been in the room earlier when she had been speaking to Laius alone? Surely she would have noticed the presence of another person?

"I was sitting in the window," Jason went on. "I'd only been there a few minutes when I heard the door opening. It was King Laius… and you. I saw him pawing you; heard you… what you said to one another… the way you said it."

"And?" Pasiphae asked. "So you overheard me having a private conversation with an old friend. What of it? Eavesdropping is incredibly impolite Jason."

"Trust me I didn't want to eavesdrop," Jason answered morosely. "Laius was all but propositioning you."

"And what if he was? What business is it of yours?"

"You're my mother," Jason responded hotly. "Plus you're married… and so is he. You were acting like a pornai."

Jason didn't even see the slap coming until the sudden burning flare across his cheek registered. He whipped his head back around to look at Pasiphae and noted both the anger and pain that showed in her eyes with rapidly growing guilt. He had hurt his mother.

"You will _never_ use that language in this house again," Pasiphae hissed. "Or you will regret it deeply."

"I'm sorry," Jason muttered. "I deserved that. What I said was uncalled for. It's just that watching you flirting with him… watching him panting after you… it's just plain wrong."

"You are innocent aren't you?" Pasiphae retorted. "It may surprise you but I am an adult and can speak to whomsoever I like and in whatever way I choose. You are not the guardian of my morals."

"Maybe not but I won't stand by and watch either one of you make a fool out of Minos in that way," Jason snapped.

"What has that to do with you?" Pasiphae demanded. "Minos is _not_ _your father_ so I really cannot see why it would bother you so much."

"He's been good to me," Jason responded. "He was kind when he had no real need to be. I can't watch him being betrayed… I just…" he broke off and went to stand in the window, shoulders rigid.

Pasiphae sighed and came to stand behind her son, resting one hand on the taut back.

"Come and sit down," she said more gently. "I will explain. There is more at stake here than perhaps you realise. Come… please."

Jason followed her to a couch near the window and sat down next to her, his whole body stiff and unyielding. Pasiphae frowned. The boy was clearly deeply unhappy.

"Now," she said, her tone still gentle. "Before I explain things to you I would like you to answer one question for me. Why does this bother you so very much?"

Jason sighed.

"I don't think you'd understand," he said.

"Try me," Pasiphae answered firmly.

"It's childish really," Jason replied. "Stupid of me."

"Jason," Pasiphae warned.

"It's just that when I was little… after my Dad left… I used to look at other children's families and pretend they were mine," Jason said softly. "It was only ever make believe and I knew it… but it still made me happy to pretend even if it was only for a little while. I grew out of it eventually. Learned the hard way that I could never have what I wanted… what I dreamed of."

He paused for a moment and felt his mother's hand covering his. He looked up and found Pasiphae indicating silently that he should continue.

"Then a few weeks ago you came along… and I _really_ didn't want to get close to you or to let you get too close to me… but the last few weeks it's been like my childhood dreams have been coming to life… not like I'd imagined they'd be but still good. I love Hercules and Pythagoras. They're my family… but lately it had begun to feel like I might just be part of your family too… and now Laius is trying to take all that away… he's trying to rip it all apart on a whim… and you're letting him… helping him… and it makes me wonder…"

He trailed off again.

"Makes you wonder what?" Pasiphae encouraged.

"Whether it was all actually a lie… whether any of it was ever really true. It makes me wonder whether it was all an act… whether you actually care or whether you're just using me to get what you want in the end… and I don't really want to think that… I want to believe that you really care but when I saw you with Laius this evening it was like you were a completely different person from the one who sat here talking to me this afternoon… or who stayed with me when I'd been poisoned."

Pasiphae closed her eyes briefly.

"You do not believe that I love you," she said sadly.

"Love can be taken away just as easily as it's given," Jason replied.

"I am sorry that that is what your life so far has taught you," his mother answered. "I hope that given time you will come to see that my love is not so fickle and will never be withheld." She looked at Jason seriously. "I would, however, like to address the rest of your fears."

She stroked the hand she had been covering with gentle fingers.

"You fear losing everything that you are coming to care for… _everyone_ that you are coming to care for," she said softly. "You fear that I will betray the King… will cuckold him… perhaps that I already have… and that you will lose this new family that you have become part of as a result. It is not true. What you witnessed was not the start of an affair but merely a small part of the game of politics."

Pasiphae held her son's eyes as she continued, knowing that she had Jason's full attention.

"What you saw… what you heard… I needed to assure myself that Minos would have Laius' unconditional support in the days to come. Others of our allies will place conditions on their help; will use our current position to extract promises and concessions from Minos that he might not otherwise have given. I needed to be sure that Laius would stand by us no matter what and that he would help to sway others to our cause."

"So you offered yourself to him," Jason stated bitterly.

"No," Pasiphae retorted sharply. Then her tone softened. "You have not grown up in the court and you have much yet to learn about both politics and our society. It is a fact – whether I like it or not – that a woman does not hold the same position within society that a man does. A man like Laius believes that a woman is inferior. Even Minos, while he acknowledges my strength and cunning, believes me to be merely a woman. A woman cannot rule and cannot truly understand politics. That is the general belief. Ariadne is heir to the throne but her husband – when she marries – will be expected to rule in her stead."

"That's ridiculous," Jason scoffed. "Ariadne will be a good Queen."

"Perhaps," Pasiphae said. "But that is the way things are. A female child does not receive the same education as her male counterpart for a start."

"I don't understand that either," Jason responded. "Where I come from boys and girls are educated the same."

"We are not where you come from though," Pasiphae pointed out. "We are in Hellas and I am informing you of how things are here." She paused for a moment, marshalling her thoughts. "If a woman of noble birth is clever and has the inclination, however, she may influence even the highest levels of society," she went on. "But to do so she must use all the weapons and wiles available to her and her allure is simply part of that. Laius is a man who responds to flattery so I flatter him. He is also a hunter – addicted to the thrill of the chase – in _all_ aspects of his life."

"You are his prey," Jason said.

"Yes," Pasiphae answered. "I am his quarry. A trophy that he desires, nothing more. But as with all things, the thing a person desires the most is the one that is forever just beyond their grasp. So I flatter and flirt with Laius but remain forever just beyond his reach. It holds his interest and allows me to manoeuvre him into a position which is to the greatest advantage of Atlantis."

"It's still not right," her son responded.

"Perhaps not," Pasiphae said. "But that is the reality of life I am afraid. Atlantis is a great city. I would not see it destroyed. The people will only be safe when Atlantis is strong. We are not so different, you and I. We would both use any weapon at our disposal to protect the city. What you saw tonight was just part of that battle." She slipped an arm around her son and drew him towards her, gradually feeling the tension leaving him. "Do not worry," she said. "I am not betraying Minos. I am merely trying to ensure our victory. You will not lose me and you will not lose your family. I promise you that."

* * *

Breakfast in the royal household was by far the most relaxed meal of the day. It was the one meal that Minos did not request that all the members of his family attend every day. It was understood that there would be times when the members of the household had other tasks to attend or wished to remain resting in their chambers if they had been undertaking their duties late the previous evening. Still, Pasiphae had noticed over the short time that she had known him that her son was apparently a habitually early riser. It was a little surprising, on the morning after the feast, to find that he had not made it to the breakfast table. Surely the boy was not _still_ upset from the previous evening? She had thought that everything had been sorted out between them and that she had succeeded in calming both his anger and assuaging his fears. By the time she had left, weary and aching and desperately wanting her bed, he had seemed to be at peace with himself – tired but not unhappy – and had been curled up in front of the fire with a second cup of whatever drink his friend appeared to have left for him.

With an imperious gesture the Queen summoned a servant and enquired about Jason's whereabouts. Once the servant had been despatched she turned back to her husband and her breakfast. Ariadne, she had already learned, had gone to the small temple dedicated to Poseidon within Pagenia early this morning to complete her duties and devotions. The Oracle had already set herself up there several days earlier and was now enjoying the hospitality of the priests and priestesses rather than that of the royal family (which Pasiphae couldn't help but be grateful for to be honest; too much time spent in the Seeress' company tended to set her teeth on edge). Apparently there had been a steady stream of devotees to keep the Oracle occupied ever since (carefully managed by the ever vigilant Melas so as not to overtax his mistress); townsfolk who wished to know the answers to their petty problems or receive guidance as to their future actions, or soldiers from the camp outside the town walls wishing for reassurance about the war to come or asking for news of loved ones left in Atlantis or in one of the other outlying towns. Even when they were in Atlantis time was set aside each day for members of the general population to consult with the Oracle yet on any normal day such visits were few and far between. Most people did not really want to know what the future had in store for them and would only consult the Seeress if they felt it was important enough. In times of trouble, however, even men who did not hold the Gods in high regard tended to turn towards religion and prayer – and the Oracle played a big part in that.

Sooner or later Pasiphae supposed she would need to consult with the Oracle herself. She had spoken with the woman several times over the past couple of weeks about what she believed to be her son's growing abilities. Yet neither she nor the prophetess had managed so far to persuade Jason himself to open up and talk to them. There had been a moment back in the hunting lodge where Pasiphae had felt he might – where he had started talking about strange dreams and had come remarkably close to confirming what she suspected – but he had backed away again when they were interrupted and had not attempted to broach the subject again since, in spite of his mother's attempts to subtly prod him towards it. Pasiphae suspected that the time was rapidly approaching when they would have to force Jason's hand; when the Oracle would have to take the action that she had alluded to back in the Temple in Atlantis when Pasiphae had first admitted her fears and suspicions to the woman.

As she mulled over all these thoughts in her mind, Pasiphae nibbled absently on a pastry. It was perhaps fortunate that Minos was preoccupied by his own concerns this morning and therefore did not notice her distraction. Word had come to the King shortly after dawn that several more of the allied kings had been spotted by the scouts approaching Pagenia with their allies. They would arrive before the lunch hour and Minos was now busy trying to mentally prepare himself for the negotiations and strategizing that he knew would come in the next few days. He could hardly expect all his allies to be as accommodating as Laius after all and knew that several of them would require a more tangible reward than the promise of reciprocal support if they should ever need it. In fact he suspected that he would have to engage in some fairly hefty political manoeuvring before they could even begin to talk about plans for retaking Atlantis.

Given the level of distraction from both the King and Queen it was perhaps just as well that Laius had decided to take breakfast with his retinue of advisors this morning. Presently Pasiphae shook herself. Where had that dratted servant got to? He had been asked to go and check on Jason's whereabouts and it should really not be taking this long. As if thinking about the man summoned him, the servant came hurrying back into the dining room, stumbling over apologies in the wake of the Queen's imperiously raised eyebrow. Inwardly Pasiphae smirked. It appeared her fearsome reputation was still intact if the man's fear was anything to go by.

Diffidently the servant explained that he had gone to the chambers of the young man the Queen had enquired about. He had been about to knock when he had been intercepted by Alexarchos who had informed him that the young Lord (the servants had been told that Jason was of noble birth and a kinsman of the royal couple without actually being informed that he was the son of the Queen) had requested not to be disturbed this morning. Apparently the younger of Jason's companions had delivered the message and as he was being backed up by the glowering form of his older companion, standing behind him with his arms folded and looking dangerously protective, the overseer had chosen to take him at his word.

Pasiphae frowned slightly. She knew that her son and his two friends were remarkably protective of one another but what were they apparently protecting Jason from this time? What was going on? The servant, mistaking the Queen's frown for displeasure at his actions, began to stammer apologies once more and to offer to go back and inform the young Lord himself that Her Majesty required his presence at the breakfast table.

Pasiphae silenced him with a few curt words and waved him away with a single flap of her hand. She had intended to continue her discussion of yesterday with Jason; to begin the process of ascertaining the level of education he would require to allow him to function as a proper member of the court – to take his place as Prince of Atlantis. Of course that in turn raised the question of where she would find a tutor of sufficient calibre in such a small town as Pagenia; particularly a tutor who Jason would not object violently to and who would be able to deal with her strong-willed son. Once they were back in Atlantis there would be no problem of course but for now she needed someone who could deal with the lad's initial testing and training. The Queen wrestled with the problem in her mind for a while.

Then it came to her. The solution was really so very simple. All that was actually needed right now was someone who could administer the tests that she required and begin to tutor her son at a fairly basic level; to teach him a little of the history of Atlantis and begin to teach him their laws and customs. For that she suspected his horribly clever friend Pythagoras would do very well indeed. A more suitable tutor – one who understood the intricacies of everything the boy would need to know – could be employed once they were back in their rightful places in Atlantis. Engaging in lessons would, she felt, help to keep her son occupied and out of mischief (because she had seen too much of his antics since he had come to Atlantis to believe that he would ever manage to keep himself out of trouble) and he was hardly likely to object when his teacher was one of his closest friends. She smirked, pleased with the solution that she had come up with.

Finally done with breakfast, Pasiphae pushed herself up from the table and began to make her way towards the family rooms. A servant would be hastily despatched to locate her son's younger friend and bring him to her, she decided. Pythagoras would obey her commands, she had no doubt; the young man was loyal to a fault, particularly where his friends were concerned, and once he realised that what she was proposing really was in Jason's best interests he would give her the assistance she required. It helped that he clearly believed in order and the rule of law too and would do as she commanded out of a sense of duty. Pasiphae shook her head. It still surprised her that this logical and coolly rational young man was friends with her apparently far more emotional son; their personalities seemed so different to one another.

But then, last night had made Pasiphae shockingly aware of how little she really knew of her son's personality. To realise that he was actually very good at hiding himself behind a carefully constructed mask and the speed with which he managed to slip it on and off had been unsettling. Jason, it seemed, was far more complex than she had realised. He had seemed such a sunny (if sometimes a little chaotic) personality that she had underestimated him; had wrongly believed that he was too innocent to have any sort of dark side. Now though, having watched the way he had bated Laius, having seen the calculated way he spoke to the man, Pasiphae was forced to re-evaluate. Jason had displayed far more cunning than she would have given him credit for if she had not witnessed it with her own eyes.

Even so there had been almost a breath-taking innocence to the fears he had confessed to having; the fears of losing a family he was clearly coming to love almost against his own will. Fears that his mother supposed were probably rooted in a childhood that she still knew too little about – although she thought she could guess some of it both from the little that Jason said and what he didn't say. Yes, she was rapidly coming to the conclusion that her son was a far more complex person than she had anticipated.

Lost in thought Pasiphae almost missed the movement that indicated the presence of another person further down the corridor. Two people in fact. Pasiphae looked up and smiled wolfishly. It appeared that the Gods were smiling on her today and she would not have to wait while a servant searched for her son's friend.

As the Queen drew level with the two men she saw them bow automatically. At the last moment before she passed them by she turned and looked back haughtily.

"Pythagoras. A moment of your time if you please," she stated.

Pythagoras looked instantly worried – although Pasiphae was beginning to suspect that that was his default expression most of the time. She gestured impatiently towards the family rooms.

"I would speak with you alone," she said.

Pythagoras swallowed hard.

"Of course My Lady," he answered. "It would be my pleasure."

Leaving the clearly suspicious Hercules behind, Pasiphae ushered the young mathematician into the sitting room and firmly closed the door behind her. Crossing the room she lowered herself onto a couch, reclining on it and looking up at the young man with sharp eyes. Not invited to sit in the Queen's presence, Pythagoras stood awkwardly, watching her with anxious eyes.

"I understand that you informed the servants that Jason did not wish to be disturbed this morning," Pasiphae began, her voice sharp and cold. "Perhaps you would be so good as to explain to me exactly what my son said and why he has chosen not to attend breakfast."

Pythagoras flushed guiltily and looked away.

"He did not," he muttered.

"Excuse me?" Pasiphae said.

"He did not say anything My Lady," Pythagoras answered, knowing full well that he might be about to get himself into a great deal of trouble. He looked at the Queen with a hint of defiance warring with the obvious worry in his eyes. "I decided that Jason did not need to be disturbed."

"And why, pray tell, would you do that?"

Pythagoras sighed.

"Jason gets insomnia," he explained quietly. "It is fairly bad at times… especially when he is worried or under stress."

"And he was worried about the meal last night," Pasiphae said thoughtfully.

"Indeed," Pythagoras replied. "I suspected he would not sleep well as a result." He kept his eyes on the Queen. "If the truth be told I suspect he has not been sleeping well for a little while… I have learned to spot the signs. This morning Hercules checked on him… he does it with both of us from time to time, although he would undoubtedly deny it if he was asked… and told me that Jason seemed to be fast asleep. It is very unusual for him to sleep so late. Jason is usually up before either one of us and I knew therefore that he must be tired not to have risen as normal. I decided at that point that it would be better for him not to be disturbed. If I have done wrong Your Majesty then I apologise and will take the blame… and any punishment you deem necessary… but neither Jason nor Hercules had any part in this and I would not see either one of them penalised for _my_ actions."

"You have acted out of concern for my son," Pasiphae stated. "I will not see you punished for that. Your loyalty is commendable."

"Jason has saved my life on numerous occasions," Pythagoras answered steadily. "He is without doubt one of the strongest and most noble people I have ever met… but I think I knew from the start that he had seen too much of the darker side of life too. They say that like calls to like and I see all too clearly the ways in which Jason and I are alike… I have always known that there was a darkness in his past which rivalled the darkness in my own. He has been damaged by what he has experienced in his life… has been scarred by it… and yet he is still the bravest and most selfless person I know… and I am proud to call him my friend. I love Jason – as I love Hercules – they are the only real family I have left. I do not wish to see him hurt in any way again and if there is something that I can do, however small that something might be, to prevent Jason from coming to harm – to make his life easier – then I will do it."

"A noble sentiment," Pasiphae responded giving the mathematician a long look. "And I have no doubt that you are virtuous enough to stand by it."

How, Pythagoras wondered as Pasiphae spoke, did the woman always manage to make a compliment sound like a faint insult? He took in the slight upturn at the corners of her mouth, the sly amusement as she watched him out of the corner of her eyes, and sighed to himself. This was for Jason he reminded himself. He had never believed that the day would come when he would be alone in a chamber conversing with Atlantis' fearsome Queen, yet here he was.

"I will always stand by my friends," he said earnestly.

Pasiphae allowed the silence that followed the young genius' comment to stretch between them for a few moments.

"You are a very clever young man," she observed.

Pythagoras shuffled awkwardly, unsure what to make of the Queen's apparently kind words.

"Thank you My Lady," he murmured.

Pasiphae snorted.

"I do not pay you an idle compliment," she stated sharply. "I am aware that you saved my life after our escape from Atlantis."

Pythagoras looked at her steadily.

"I did it for Jason," he admitted.

"Whatever your reasons you have my thanks," Pasiphae said. She looked him up and down. "Yes, a very clever young man indeed… but not a wealthy young man. In fact I am led to believe that the three of you live in some poverty."

"We get by," Pythagoras answered. He knew that disagreeing with Pasiphae was not generally considered to be a good move – that it might prove hazardous to his long term health – but he was growing concerned at the direction the conversation was taking.

"Really!" Pasiphae scoffed. "I hear that much of the time you border on starvation. That there was an occasion several months ago where my son was reduced to stealing bread meant for the pigs."

Pythagoras stiffened. How had Pasiphae heard about that? He only hoped that she did not know the full story. Somehow he didn't think Jason would appreciate his mother knowing that he had been cursed and turned into a Kynikos as a result of his accidental sacrilege.

"I also hear that there are occasions when you have gone without food for days at a time," Pasiphae went on. "Although I can scarcely believe it of your fat friend."

"Hercules does not…" Pythagoras began, wanting to defend his old friend.

"I do not say this to insult you," Pasiphae interrupted, her voice softening. "I wish to make you an offer."

"An offer My Lady?" Pythagoras asked, wary of her intentions.

"Indeed," Pasiphae answered. "I have a proposition for you that is suited to your abilities. You are clever and I believe you have been educated. I wish to make use of your intelligence and education." She looked shrewdly at the young man. "Do not look so worried," she said. "I do not intend to ask anything of you that would make you uncomfortable or would betray those you care for. I merely wish to enlist your help on behalf of my son."

"Jason?" Pythagoras queried. "You wish me to help Jason?"

"Yes," Pasiphae retorted. "What I am asking of you will not in any way disturb your conscience. It will be to the benefit of my son… and I hope to the benefit of us all… and you will be well rewarded for your assistance."

"What are you asking of me?" Pythagoras asked suspiciously.

Pasiphae sighed. She stood and made her way to the window, looking out at the garden beyond. For a long moment she stood there, working out how best to word the proposition she wished to make to the young man.

"I do not believe I have made any attempt to hide the fact that I wish Jason to take his rightful place as Prince of Atlantis," she said softly.

"Surely that is a decision for Jason to make," Pythagoras found himself saying. "I do not think it would be fair for me to attempt to influence him either way if that is what you want me to do."

"I do not ask that of you," Pasiphae replied. "Jason has made it abundantly clear that this a decision he will make himself but that he is not yet ready to take it. He has expressed a desire to know more of our lives and it is to that end that I have summoned you."

"Why?" Pythagoras asked bluntly. "I do not think I am the best placed person to tell Jason about life in your court."

"No but there are other things which you might teach him," Pasiphae answered. "If Jason is to understand his place in the world and to take on the role he was born for he must be educated… and at present I am not aware of exactly what that would entail. I would have him learn our history; our customs; _our laws_. Areas where I believe at present his knowledge is woefully lacking." She held up a hand to forestall Pythagoras' defence of his friend. "It is _not_ Jason's fault. I am well aware of that. From the little he has said of his upbringing it is clear that he has grown up far from our borders and to expect him to have learned all he needs to know in the short time he has been in Atlantis would be patently unreasonable. These are areas of my son's education, therefore, that I know must be addressed… What I do not know, however, is where any other gaps in his education might lie. It is clear that he has received _some_ education… but I wish to know whether he will need to begin his secondary education from the start, or whether there are merely gaps in his knowledge that might be easily filled." She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Jason has agreed to this. Indeed back at the Palace he had already expressed a desire to learn something of our Gods and our religion. Once we are returned to Atlantis and Anaxandros has been driven back to his own lands, or despatched to Hades as he deserves, a tutor will be chosen and appointed. I believe, though, that it would be beneficial for Jason to begin some level of study as soon as possible. He is a bright boy and I would hope will begin to learn fairly quickly. This then is where you will come in."

"What is it that you actually require of me Your Majesty?" Pythagoras asked softly.

"I believe that Jason will respond better to a tutor that he does not actively dislike," Pasiphae answered. "I would ask you to help me by assessing where the weaknesses in Jason's education lie and beginning to address this. I would, of course, ensure that you are rewarded for your assistance."

Pythagoras looked at her steadily.

"I do not need to be bribed to help my friend," he said firmly.

"I am not bribing you," Pasiphae responded sharply. "But I am aware that a regular wage would assist your situation. You would receive the same wage that I would pay any pedagogue… a position which would seem to suit you far more than any manual labour. It is a solution that will be to everyone's advantage. You will earn a reasonable wage while helping a friend. That is not so unreasonable is it?"

"Logic dictates that you are correct," Pythagoras murmured. "I will do as you ask… for Jason's sake."

Pasiphae smiled.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "Let me explain in detail what is required of you."

* * *

Minos took a deep breath and steeled himself before stepping back into the chamber where several of his potential allies waited for him to re-join them. Laius of Thebes had been joined during the day by Attalos of Pergamon. Mithridates of Pontus was expected to arrive within the next day or two. With Attalos had come Agrias of Tanagra, a close neighbour of Laius'.

The arrival of Agrias had taken Minos by surprise. Whilst he was bound by the terms of a treaty drawn up some fifty years ago to provide aid to Atlantis whenever it was required, he was not what anyone would call a close ally or a particular friend. He did, however, command a sizeable number of troops. Whilst it appeared that most of the Atlantian allies had brought no more than token armies (not having anticipated a full scale war to dislodge Anaxandros from his claimed position and having believed this would be a simple and straightforward show of support and muscle to persuade the Amphigeneian King that his best course of action was withdrawal), Agrias was paranoid enough that he had brought the bulk of his troops with him – a sizeable force of men that Minos desperately needed.

So far the negotiations had been difficult. Minos had not been so naïve as to believe his allies would want nothing in return for their help (although somewhat to his surprise he had found that Laius had done just that) but Agrias seemed reluctant to offer even the most basic of aid until a treaty had been hammered out – with Minos having to make whatever concessions he demanded. He had not as yet seen fit to clearly state his demands, however, and had been content to allow Attalos to make his own requests for the time being – although it had been absolutely clear from the comments he _had_ made that he intended to drive a hard bargain himself.

As for Attalos, Minos had made a variety of concessions with regards to trade between the two kingdoms. That and an agreement for reciprocal aid should the situation ever arise had been all the Pergamonian King had actually wanted. Still it had taken several hours to get to that point and draw up a treaty for both monarchs to sign. Minos had stepped outside immediately afterwards on the pretext of answering a missive from General Dion about the disposition of some newly arrived troops but really to give himself a little breathing space and the chance to gather his thoughts.

Now though, he stepped back through the door into the council chamber with renewed vigour. How he wished that Pasiphae could be at his side. Her sharp cunning would be much appreciated right now. Unfortunately custom dictated that she remain absent, and Minos knew that Attalos in particular would have been offended by the presence of the Atlantian Queen at such an important negotiation. Attalos was incredibly conservative when it came to the role of women within society and would never have accepted Pasiphae's attendance.

"Well My Lords," he said. "Now that we have reached an agreement with Pergamon we must turn our attention to Tanagra."

Agrias smiled. It was not a pleasant smile.

"Tanagra will require more than a promise of future aid," he said smoothly. "We may never need your help after all. We will need something a little more tangible. Trade concessions are all very well but we trade little with Atlantis so they will hardly be of any great use to us."

"You will require other reparations then," Minos said. "Perhaps a package of trade concessions combined with monetary inducements will sound more attractive to you."

"I think not," Agrias answered. "I have little need of your money or your jewels… No My Lord the price of my help is far more simple. I will not wring any great concessions from you. I want only one thing in return for my help. Grant it to me and the armies of Tanagra will be yours to command."

"And what might that one thing be?" Minos asked, immediately on his guard.

"I have a son," Agrias responded. "He is a good boy. Very dutiful. He is my younger son, however, and can have little in the way of expectations. You have a daughter of marriageable age. I am told that she is very beautiful and has been educated in all the social graces. All I am asking for in return for my aid is your daughter's bride price. Betroth her to my son and announce the betrothal publicly and you will have my full and unquestioning support."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N Firstly can I just say that I am _so_ sorry that its been so long since I updated this story. Just in case anyone was worrying I haven't abandoned Child of Fortune (and won't abandon it!) but unfortunately I've had a series of deadlines both in and out of work ever since Christmas that have taken my attention away from this story - not least of which were the end of Round 6 for Hurt/Comfort Bingo (and I'm _still_ ridiculously pleased with the amount of achievements I managed and that I managed to scrape in under the wire with a bingo) and the first draft submission for the Small Fandom Bang (watch this space - the story for that one should be posted some time early in April).

In case anyone hasn't seen and is interested, Mark Addy is starring in Jericho on ITV at the moment, Robert Emms is currently in Happy Valley on BBC 1 and Jack Donnelly will guest star in Thursday night's episode of Death in Paradise on BBC 1 (18th February).

Well, announcements over, I hope you all enjoy the chapter (and indeed that you're still reading the story!)

* * *

Minos frowned, fighting to keep his shock at Agrias' suggestion from registering on his face. He had expected the price of the Tanagran King's help to be steep, but this? To give him Ariadne in return for his help in retaking Atlantis? Minos was no fool and had always known that Ariadne's marriage would have to be a politically advantageous alliance rather than a love match but giving her away so easily to a man he had not even met yet had never been on the cards. Yet he badly needed the troops that Agrias had at his disposal. He simply could not afford to offend the man. If that happened, he was likely to lose more than just the help of the Tanagran monarch. It was all too likely that refusing Agrias' demand would cause him to return home and refuse to help retake Atlantis. If that happened Minos suspected that many of his other allies would also desert him, surmising that he was too weak to retake the throne.

To give himself a moment's breathing space and time to think, the Atlantian King stood up from the table where he was negotiating and made his way to a low cupboard at the far end of the room. With his back to his fellow kings, he poured himself a cup of wine from a polished bronze ewer and stood looking out at the courtyard. He knew full well that Agrias was watching him triumphantly, knowing that he was caught between a rock and a hard place; knowing that he had little choice but to capitulate.

"That is an interesting proposition My Lord," Minos murmured. "And one which I must consider carefully."

"What is there to consider?" Agrias snorted. "If you wish for my help that is my price."

"Indeed," Minos answered carefully. "It is a proposal which has many… implications, however. Both for my daughter and for Atlantis itself. Ariadne is still very young. I had thought to wait a while yet before promising her to another."

Agrias snorted again.

"She is not so very young," he asserted. "Many women have been married for several years at her age and have already begun to fulfil their duties in whelping. She is of marriageable age and he will make her a more than acceptable husband."

"Perhaps," Minos acknowledged. He hesitated for a moment. "Ariadne was betrothed some months ago to my wife's nephew," he continued. "It was intended from their childhood that she would be given to him in marriage."

"As I understand it your wife's nephew is dead," Agrias stated.

"He is," Minos replied. "He died these few months past. To betroth Ariadne to another so quickly, however, would perhaps be unwise. There are many who would look down on any new match as having been made with imprudent haste. I would not for the world have any such stigma attached to your son, especially if he is as worthy a young man as you have suggested."

"I had been led to believe that the engysis between your daughter and your wife's nephew had been dissolved shortly after it was made and that in fact the young man in question had been revealed as a traitor after his death… an occurrence which seems all too common in your court My Lord," Agrias answered sharply. "That being the case it is I who am taking the risk by allying my family to yours. You insult me by your hesitancy."

Minos glanced at Laius. He was the only other person present who had been told of Heptarian's duplicity. Minos suspected that the Theban King must have revealed the fact to Agrias at least, and quite possibly to Attalos as well. To do him credit, Laius looked back at Minos apologetically. It appeared he had meant no harm by what he must have seen as innocent gossip and had no more anticipated Agrias' demands than Minos himself had.

"I mean no insult My Lord," Minos said firmly. "I have merely learned to be cautious. I have no _personal_ objections to a match between my daughter and your son, I merely wished to preserve the proprieties. I have not had the pleasure of meeting the young man as yet… a meeting which must take place before any engysis can be made. I would also have Ariadne meet him before the betrothal is announced."

"A dutiful daughter would accept her father's will and decision without question," Agrias declared. "I had been told that your daughter was educated in the social graces and dutiful to her father. If this is not the case, then perhaps I might suggest that she requires proper chastisement until she learns her place."

Minos bristled. How dare Agrias question either Ariadne's behaviour or his own authority as a father?

"My daughter is indeed dutiful," he responded stiffly. "I have no doubt whatsoever that if this alliance is made she will fulfil her part in it admirably. I simply meant that I would wish Ariadne to meet her potential new husband before any official announcement is made. It would seem kinder to both my daughter and your son. If the Gods are to look favourably on the match then all the proper proprieties must be observed. The engysis must be officially made between your son and myself… and for that I will naturally require his presence here."

"There will be nothing easier," Agrias rumbled. "My son is currently with my army. I will send for him today." He looked at Minos shrewdly. "This womanish hesitancy does you no credit My Lord," he said. "There are those who might argue that your lack of decision in this matter shows an alarming weakness in character; those who might suggest that it does not bode well for your resolve when the time comes to retake your city."

"I assure you that my resolve is firm," Minos answered coolly, "as both my friends and my enemies will swiftly learn. I will not leave my kingdom… my city and its people in the hands of a tyrant."

"I am pleased to hear it," Agrias said slyly. "Yet we must still make an agreement here. You know my terms. There is only one inducement that I want for my help. My son is of good family. The son of a king. We have many powerful allies who would become yours once the union between our families had taken place… Or do you find the thought of an alliance with my family so distasteful that you would reject the benefits that such a union could offer out of hand?"

Minos looked at Agrias steadily. In the background he was aware that both Attalos and Laius were watching the situation with great interest. Damn Agrias! Of all the prices he could have demanded why did it have to be this one? He had known that he would eventually have to choose a husband for his beloved daughter – a man who could rule Atlantis when Minos himself was gone – and yet he had thought that there was still plenty of time to make a choice.

If the King were honest (and in spite of his faults Minos _did_ generally try to be honest) over the past few weeks he had grown to hope that his wife's son might eventually prove worthy of the role. It would, after all, solve a great many problems. The thing that had always worried Minos was that if he married Ariadne to the son of a rival king Atlantis might eventually fall under the control of that other kingdom. Yet, Heptarian aside, there had been no suitable candidates to be found within the ranks of the nobility in Atlantis itself.

Now Jason had come along. Whilst it was as yet unclear whether he would choose to stay once the Amphigeneians were expelled from Atlantis (and certainly the lad had given no indication either way) and while his educational needs and suitability for the role had not been assessed yet, Minos had found himself growing fond of Jason almost in spite of himself. There was an honesty about the young man that the King appreciated.

Then there was the fact that Ariadne was already attached to Jason to consider. Above all things Minos wished his daughter to be happy. He had known from the start that her marriage would not necessarily be a love match – that politics would have to come into play when considering any potential suitor for Ariadne's hand – but the possibility of providing her with a suitor who would make Ariadne happy at the same time as providing a match that would be beneficial to Atlantis was an enticing prospect. If Jason were to prove suitable then Minos would not be unhappy.

Agrias forcing his hand was definitely a complication that Minos had not anticipated, however. Every instinct was telling the Atlantian King to reject this proposal but the hideous truth was that he simply could not afford to. Gods help him, he desperately needed the troops that Tanagra could provide and he dared not risk offending Agrias. His mind kept circling around to the same thought: the thought that to save his city Minos might have to sacrifice his daughter's happiness. It was not a choice that he wished to make and yet the decision could not be put off.

"I do not doubt that your family is a fine one My Lord," Minos answered Agrias. "Who could object to such a match? Yet, as I have said, no engysis can be settled until your son has arrived. Send for him by all means. I would crave your indulgence in one matter though…" he paused for a moment before continuing. "I would wish to postpone any announcements until after I have spoken to my daughter. Ariadne is a good and faithful daughter and I know will follow the course I set for her, yet I would not wish the news of any betrothal agreement that we might make to come as a shock to her… for the general populous to learn of her engagement before she does."

"By all means," Agrias said magnanimously. "And since the decision to grant my simple request seems to be so difficult for you, I will give you the night to mull it over. Come to me tomorrow with your decision. There will be no negotiation and I wish for no other inducement that you could possibly offer. Your daughter's bride price for my full support… take it or leave it."

* * *

The day had started off fine, the winter sun casting its pale light over Pagenia, but towards the end of the morning the clouds began to roll in and the wind started to pick up, bringing the promise of a storm later on. In the distance the waves grew larger, their white tops crashing against the shore to break in a spray of white froth. Nearby, the wind caught at the dust in the courtyard, stirring it up ever more violently. Jason turned away from the window of his chamber and back towards the fire with a faint shudder. Much as he usually hated to be cooped up indoors, he'd never really liked being cold and would far rather be inside in a nice warm room when bad weather struck.

With a sigh he dropped down into a chair near the fire and stared moodily into the flames. He was tired; more tired than he'd been in a long time. Strange dreams had been plaguing his sleep for weeks; half-remembered images that seemed to tell a story that had not yet happened or had happened long ago; dreams that seemed to bleed over into the waking world. There were occasions when he found himself apparently losing track of time in the middle of the day; where an object he touched or a smell or sound triggered a daydream so strong that he was unaware of anything other than the images he was seeing and he would apparently "wake up" at the end of the daydream to find that some time had passed and more often than not his current companion was looking at him in concern. So far he had managed to shrug these incidents off; to cover for the missing time and hide the fact that he was essentially having lapses in awareness; to make everyone around him believe that everything was fine; but it was getting harder and harder to fool himself.

Jason grimaced. Not for the first time the word 'epilepsy' passed through his mind. One of the children in his class in primary school had had it; had had short periods of absence at random moments. Still, from what he had gathered it didn't involve hallucinations of any kind so perhaps he _was_ simply losing his mind. Jason snorted. It wasn't the first time he had thought that in the months since he had arrived in Atlantis.

Every time he had one of these dreams (daydreams; visions; whatever the hell you wanted to call them) he ended up with a headache of varying intensity. When you added to that the disturbed sleep patterns that came as a result of the dreams, it was all getting a bit much to be honest; was more than a little wearing. Perhaps he should speak to someone – but who?

If this were a purely physical problem Jason wouldn't hesitate to speak to Pythagoras. The young genius would undoubtedly know of something to ease the ever present headaches and help him to get a good night's sleep. Yet Jason wasn't entirely sure how to explain what was going on to his logical friend. 'I'm being haunted by dreams and daydreams' didn't sound right somehow and Jason wasn't sure it would come under Pythagoras' area of expertise anyway.

The Oracle seemed the obvious choice, but he still hadn't fully forgiven her for lying to him for so long; for keeping so much from him. Given her distinct lack of openness and honesty before, could Jason really trust her now? She had always been kind and _had_ given him good advice on numerous occasions, yet there was a wariness to his dealings with her now that had never been there before; a hesitancy to open up to her again. Part of him couldn't help suspecting that she would try to manipulate him into the position that she wanted him to be in; that she would try to mould him to fit her ideas of what he should be. The Oracle had always been there for him but how much of that was because of the so-called destiny that she seemed determined he would fulfil? What would she do if he refused to fall in line with her visions and pronouncements? Her primary loyalty would always be to Poseidon and to Atlantis after all.

Jason sighed. Perhaps he was being uncharitable. The Oracle's motives had always seemed to be above reproach and she _had_ shown genuine concern for him in the past; had guided and helped him when he had been lost. Still, he had felt betrayed when he had discovered that she had known both who his mother was and that his father was still alive and had chosen to mislead him; had been deeply hurt by her actions. In fact, he had not sought her advice (incident with the naiads notwithstanding) since the day he had discovered that Pasiphae was his mother; had never been voluntarily alone in the Oracle's company. Sooner or later he supposed he would have to get past his feelings of hurt towards her, but there had seemed to be more important things for him to think about and deal with than the Oracle's apparent duplicity. No doubt she would send for him when she wanted him – after all she had never been shy about doing so in the past.

So who else could he talk to? His mother? Jason grimaced again. Pasiphae had proved to be far from what he had expected going into this, and yet she was still Atlantis' feared and formidable Queen and brooked no opposition – and most definitely did not suffer fools gladly. The sad truth was that he simply didn't know her well enough yet to even be able to guess what she might say. Would she believe he was telling the truth? Or would she think he was making it up for whatever reason her mind conjured up? And if she did believe him, would she think he was going mad? Jason had lived in Atlantis for long enough now to realise that there was little or no real treatment for those who would have been classed as mentally ill in the world he had come from. More often than not they were simply hidden away behind closed doors where the supposed stigma of their instability could not socially affect their families.

He had been lucky that neither Hercules nor Pythagoras had followed social norms when he had had what he still thought of as a breakdown after Alektryon. They had simply cared too much to either lock him away or cast him out, and for that Jason would always be deeply grateful. Could he really expect his mother to act the same way if she decided he was less than stable though? And come to that could he really bring himself to trouble her with his problems anyway? With so much going on at the moment Jason wasn't entirely sure he wanted to add to Pasiphae's burdens by dumping this on her.

No, he decided, he would keep his dreams and his daydreams to himself for just a little while longer. Hopefully they were only a result of the current turmoil anyway and would fade away again as soon as everything calmed down and the city was retaken. Jason resolutely ignored the little voice that told him that this wasn't likely to happen; that he had been in situations that were more stressful than this before without having any more than the odd periodic nightmare – certainly nothing like he was experiencing at the moment; that some of these apparent dreams had played out in the waking world exactly as he had seen them in his sleep.

He frowned. A memory stirred from years ago. He remembered his Dad telling him that he had an overactive imagination and that he needed to keep the contents of his dreams to himself; that people would think he was a liar or not quite normal. He remembered promising his Dad that he would stop trying to talk to people that only he could see apparently. There was something else, though; something he hadn't thought about in years. He remembered his Dad, later that night when he had thought Jason was asleep, hovering over his bed looking upset. He had murmured something about Jason being too young for this (whatever "this" was) and needing to protect him. Then he had said something about it being all his fault, about how Jason would be safer if his Dad went back and something about his presence triggering abilities. Jason hadn't known what he was talking about (still didn't know if the truth be told) but he had known that he'd done something wrong; that his Dad was upset because of him. It was only a few weeks later when his Dad had given him the necklace and said goodbye, and deep down Jason had known that it was all his fault; that his Dad had left because of him. He had kept his promise though; he had never spoken about his dreams to anyone again.

Jason sighed. Over the years the dreams and the imaginary friends (because what else could they be?) had disappeared as children's dreams often will. By the time he had been about nine or so they'd gone altogether and over the years they had faded from his mind and memory almost completely. Part of him still wanted to believe what his Dad had told him – that his childhood dreams had been the result of an overactive imagination; that his dreams now were the same – yet he really couldn't. As a child he had dreamed of a city that bore a startling resemblance to Atlantis and of a creature that was half woman and half scorpion (Kampê, his mind unhelpfully supplied); of a desperate fight against a man with the head of a bull; and of following a large man through dank and dark tunnels and watching the man bend the metal bars that blocked their way with his bare hands.

The question was though, was he truly remembering his childhood dreams properly or was he embellishing his memories with the things that had happened to him since he had arrived here? Was he projecting his feelings and experiences now onto his past?

He sighed again, closing his eyes and bringing one hand up to squeeze the bridge of his nose; trying to sort through his tangled thoughts unsuccessfully. It really didn't help that his head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton wool this morning. Sleep hadn't come easily last night because he had been too wound up both before and after last night's dinner (although for different reasons as it had turned out). The spiced milk Pythagoras had thoughtfully left had helped a little but once Jason _had_ managed to get to sleep he had been plagued once again by strange and disturbing dreams (and was it really too much to ask to go one night without them? _Really_?). He'd woken up with a stinking headache sometime around dawn and opted to roll over and go back to sleep to try to sleep it off, fully expecting someone to come along and wake him up before it got too late. It had come as a surprise when he had finally surfaced to discover that the sun was high in the sky and that he had slept far later than intended.

Of course the only problem with that was that he was left with the groggy feeling that came from sleeping for too long. Jason rubbed his eyes, trying to shake of the heavy, not-quite-awake feeling that was dogging him. He frowned again. Hadn't his mother said something about discussing the education she felt he needed this morning? He would have expected her to arrive before now. If there was one thing he had learned about Pasiphae over the past few weeks, it was that she was _never_ late and could not abide tardiness. Perhaps she had been held up; perhaps something had happened.

Before Jason could think about it anymore, a knock sounded at the door. That must be Pasiphae now. Subconsciously Jason relaxed.

"Come in," he said.

It wasn't Pasiphae that swept regally into the room, however. Instead Pythagoras popped his head around the door.

"Are you decent?" he called.

Jason grinned.

"Yeah," he answered.

Pythagoras came in fully and gently closed the door behind himself. He crossed the room with a broad smile on his face and stopped near the fire, extending his hands towards the blaze to warm them.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, coming to sit down near Jason and placing the satchel he had been carrying on the floor.

"I think I slept for too long," Jason responded ruefully. "I can't seem to wake up properly."

Pythagoras looked slightly guilty.

"I am afraid that might be my fault," he said. "When Hercules said that you were still sleeping earlier I presumed that you needed it and asked Alexarchos to ensure that you were not disturbed."

"You were probably right," Jason answered. "I haven't been sleeping all that well lately… too much going on I suppose."

Pythagoras hesitated for a moment.

"Is that all it is?" he asked carefully.

Jason frowned.

"What do you mean?" he responded.

"There is nothing else troubling you?"

Jason's frown deepened. He had briefly forgotten how perceptive Pythagoras could be at times.

"I'm fine," he answered guardedly. "It's just with everything that's happened over the past few weeks… well you know… I'm a bit unsettled at times… plus I miss the cat. I'd got used to her sleeping with me and it feels odd now that she's not here." He paused. "Do you think she's alright?"

"I have to admit that I miss Isosceles too," Pythagoras answered. "I am sure she is fine and I know that Meriones will look after her. There was no practical way we could have brought her with us and yet I find myself looking for her and missing her at odd times of the day."

"I know," Jason said. "You know Hercules would never let either one of us forget it if he knew we missed the cat don't you?"

Pythagoras quirked a smile.

"I suspect that Hercules probably misses Isosceles every bit as much as we do," he pointed out. "Not that he would ever admit it of course."

"Where is he anyway?"

"I am not entirely sure," Pythagoras confessed. "Although I did hear some of the soldiers in the camp talking about a dice game yesterday."

"As long as he doesn't lose his shirt again," Jason said.

"Oh I suspect he probably will," Pythagoras answered with a wry smile. "Half of Atlantis owns items of Hercules' clothing by now. No doubt he will turn up when he is ready. If he has had a lucky day we will not hear the end of it. Either way he will have drunk more than is good for him."

"Either celebrating his win or drowning his sorrows?" Jason chuckled.

"Something like that."

"As long as he doesn't let the King or Queen see him in that state," Jason said, sobering.

"We will have to keep an eye out for him then," Pythagoras replied.

"Speaking of the Queen… she said something yesterday about coming to see me this morning," Jason murmured. "She's _never_ late. I'm beginning to think something's happened… it hasn't, has it?"

"Not that _I_ know of," Pythagoras responded. "I believe that two more of the kings have arrived and are closeted with King Minos, deep in discussion… but that is all." He hesitated. "I think I may be here in the Queen's place," he admitted.

Jason frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Earlier this morning I had an audience with the Queen at her request," Pythagoras answered. He hesitated again. "Jason before I go on I have a question for you… Pasiphae indicated that she wished you to learn about the laws and customs of Atlantis and claimed you had agreed to it… is this true?"

Jason sighed.

"Yes," he answered. "She seems keen on it and I guess it wouldn't hurt to know a bit more about everything. At least if I know what most of the laws are I can hopefully avoid getting us all sentenced to the bull court again."

Pythagoras shot him a faintly amused look.

"I somehow doubt that your mother would allow the King to do that," he said. "I suspect she might start slicing off bits of his anatomy if he tried."

Jason snorted.

"She does seem a bit protective," he acknowledged.

"And fierce," Pythagoras said. "She is definitely fierce."

"Yeah," Jason agreed. "She's definitely fierce… and has a very hard hand," he added, unconsciously rubbing his cheek where she had slapped him last night – although the sting had faded even before she had left him and retired for the night.

Pythagoras looked startled.

"She hit you?" he asked.

Right at that moment Jason was glad they were alone – somehow he couldn't see Hercules reacting well or understanding.

"She slapped me," he clarified, "but I deserved it. I said something unforgivable… I called her a prostitute – a pornai."

"Jason!" Pythagoras sounded shocked.

"I know… I know," Jason answered. "I overheard King Laius flirting with her… I regretted saying it as soon as the words left my mouth."

"I am surprised you are still here to tell the tale," Pythagoras murmured earnestly. "The Queen has a reputation for dealing swiftly with people who cross her."

Jason's mouth twisted into a smile.

"I know she is not always a good woman… that she can be wicked… but over the last few weeks… she's not the person I thought she was."

"Maybe… but I would still not go out of my way to offend her."

"You once told me that you knew the Queen was evil and deserved to die."

"I did," Pythagoras acknowledged. "Although as I recall, you were fairly convinced of the fact yourself at the time."

"Yeah," Jason agreed. He huffed a short, breathy laugh. "Who would have thought back then that we'd end up where we are now?"

"Not me," Pythagoras answered. He looked seriously at Jason. "I still cannot say that the Queen does not unnerve me and I still fear her intentions. As you have said she is not a good woman… but for your sake I am willing to give her the benefit of the doubt."

"She wants me to be educated," Jason muttered. "I've been educated… I've been to university… although, as she _kindly_ pointed out, it doesn't really help me very much with the laws and customs of Atlantis."

Pythagoras looked curious.

"What is 'university'?" he asked.

"Umm, it's a type of advanced school that you can choose to go to where I come from," Jason answered. "Most people that go to university go when they're eighteen and stay for three or four years – depending on the course you choose. Basically you choose a subject to specialise in and just study that. Not everyone goes to university… it's pretty much something you have to want to do."

It felt good to talk a little about where he came from with his friends now that they knew the truth – although Jason was still being careful to a certain extent and trying to avoid talking about anything that might actually alter the future.

Pythagoras' eyes lit up.

"It is not considered odd to wish to study where you come from then?" he demanded.

"Not really," Jason answered.

"I wish I could see it," Pythagoras breathed, his eyes shining. "In Samos I was always treated as an oddity for my love of learning," he admitted. "Even in Atlantis it is a little unusual. I know that in great cities like Athens education is prized and scholars revered but it is still something that is beyond the reaches of most ordinary men… To be educated or to wish to spend your life as a scholar you must have money… it is beyond the means of most citizens."

"You still have to pay for university where I come from," Jason replied. "But it is a bit more accessible to most people than education is here. Everyone goes to school when they're five and stays until they're eighteen – it's compulsory actually – and girls are treated the same as boys… taught the same things. I still don't understand why you don't educate girls properly here."

"It must be a wondrous thing to see," Pythagoras said a little sadly.

Jason smiled affectionately.

"Only you could get excited about children going to school," he said. "Anyway, getting back to the point, I told Pasiphae that I couldn't make any decisions about the future until I know what normal life in the Palace and Court would entail. I still want to come home with you guys… but I'm not sure that's an option any more. I know _she_ wants me to go to the Palace permanently but I can't make that sort of decision yet… So she's decided that I need to learn what the role of prince entails… that I need to learn about the history of Atlantis and all the laws and customs. I think she's decided that it will help me to understand my place in the world. She wants me to have some sort of tutor I think. I'm just hoping that she doesn't pick some dry, crusty old academic… although I'm not sure that she'll have all that much choice. There can't be many people who she would find suitable I guess. Why did you ask about it though? And why did you ask if I'd agreed?"

Pythagoras paused for a moment.

"I told you that the Queen had summoned me to an audience this morning," he said softly.

"Yeah," Jason responded.

"She has asked me to help you to begin to study while we are in Pagenia; to tutor you," Pythagoras said looking straight at his friend. "She seems to think you would react badly to a tutor that you did not like. I do not know the intricacies and nuances of life in Court but the Queen indicated that that was not important at this stage. For now, she wishes me to ascertain where any gaps in your knowledge might lie and begin to fill those gaps at a basic level. Apparently a more suitable tutor will be engaged upon our return to Atlantis to cover the more complex areas of study."

Jason frowned, his lips forming a thin, disapproving line.

"She shouldn't have done that," he protested softly. "She doesn't have any right to make you give up your time."

"You are being ridiculous," Pythagoras answered. "It would be my pleasure. The Queen is not making me give up my time unwillingly and she has offered me suitable recompense. I did tell her that I did not need to be bribed to help a friend but she indicated that she wished to pay me the wages that she would pay any pedagogue. I will admit that the thought of being paid for a job I would actually enjoy rather than one of Hercules' guarding jobs is enticing. I will enjoy helping you to learn all that the Queen feels is necessary and I had hoped that it might give me the opportunity to learn a little more about the world that you have come from… particularly how education works and what subjects you have been taught. Your 'university' sounds fascinating and I would like to learn more. I find the idea of spending days in pleasant company, both teaching and, I hope, studying to be a pleasant one." He hesitated. "Unless you would like someone else… I confess I have allowed myself to become carried away. If you would prefer a different tutor I will understand."

"Don't be stupid," Jason said. "Of course I'd rather it was you. I mean I could be lumbered with some crusty, boring old man. I just didn't want Pasiphae to be taking advantage of you… and I'm not sure how this is going to work. I don't like to be cooped up and my abiding memory of both school and university is of sitting in the corner of a stuffy classroom and trying not to fall asleep… or at least not get _caught_ falling asleep. I did alright in school I guess. Just kept my head down and got on with it… but I never thought I'd be going back and I never really wanted to."

"Yet you told me you like to read," Pythagoras said gently.

"That's different," Jason replied. "I've always liked reading."

"Why?"

"Sorry?"

"I asked why?" Pythagoras said patiently. "What is it that appeals to you?"

"I suppose it's because it's an escape," Jason answered thoughtfully. "It doesn't matter what's going on in your life… you can still lose yourself for a little while and forget everything. I once heard someone say 'we read to know that we're not alone'… I don't know if that's true or not but I liked the idea. Plus, a book is normally small enough to carry around easily so it didn't matter if I was being sent on to somewhere else, I could still take one with me." He glanced at Pythagoras. "A book is lots of pieces of parchment bound together into a block and wrapped in a cover," he added, pre-empting what he thought the mathematician's next question might be.

"Like a codex then?" Pythagoras asked. "They have such things in some of the larger libraries… Alexandria; Athens; possibly even the Palace library in Atlantis – I have heard tell that it contains many wondrous secrets. A codex is prohibitively expensive, however. Scrolls or pieces of parchment are much cheaper. There are many codices where you come from then? It must be an amazing sight and everyone must be a great deal richer than they are here."

"Books are cheap where I come from," Jason answered. "Over the centuries they've found ways to make them cheaper and cheaper. Most books cost about the same as a bottle of wine… cheaper if it's good wine."

Pythagoras' mouth opened in an 'o'; his blue eyes wide and shining with fascination.

"I wish that it was like that here," he breathed.

"Trust me, where I grew up wasn't exactly paradise," Jason answered firmly. "There's plenty of bad stuff that happens there too… just like it does in Atlantis. In some ways Atlantis is a much nicer place... a simpler place. I know where _I'd_ rather be and it isn't where I grew up."

"All of this is digressing somewhat from the point anyway," Pythagoras murmured. "I understand your hesitancy to commit to lessons if you did not enjoy your schooling, but I believe that we might find ways together to make it a more pleasurable experience for both of us. I do not believe that we need to stay in a 'stuffy' classroom, as you called it. The Queen informed me of the subjects she wished you to know and instructed me to begin with initial testing to ascertain where any gaps in your current knowledge might lie, but she neglected to stipulate _where_ and _how_ any lessons should take place. I am to report to her again once I have administered the tests to inform her of the results and receive further instruction as to which subjects she wishes me to concentrate on initially… and to keep her informed on any progress we make."

Jason pulled a face.

"She's taking this a bit too seriously," he grumbled. "I feel like I'm a kid going back to school."

"A baby goat?" Pythagoras asked with confusion. "Why on earth would you feel like a baby goat?"

"No," Jason said with a laugh. "It's an informal name for a child."

"Oh," Pythagoras said. "I hardly think that you are a child," he added.

"I know that," Jason replied, "but I'm not entirely sure that Pasiphae does." He looked at Pythagoras speculatively. "I suppose since she's roped you in to this we'd better get on with it," he suggested.

Pythagoras smiled brightly and reached into his satchel for a sheaf of parchments.

"Very well," he said. "Let us move to the table. We will begin with mathematics."

* * *

Meriones looked up from the warehouse inventory he was carefully going over as Gelo slipped into the room.

"Well?" he demanded.

"They got away cleanly," Gelo answered.

"Good," Meriones rumbled.

"It seems that the messenger we managed to slip out in the last lot managed to get through to Pathmos and delivered his message to Kerkyon too."

"How do you know?" Meriones asked.

"Because Kerkyon was waiting for us outside the city," Gelo said. "He arrived a few days ago and is camping in the woods."

Meriones frowned.

"I did not intend him to return," he growled. "He is a fool to risk coming here."

"Maybe," Gelo agreed. "But then what we're doing isn't the sanest thing. I think Kerkyon thought he could help get our escapees a bit further away from the city. Besides, he brought news."

Meriones pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the window, rubbing thoughtfully at his great, black beard.

"What news?" he demanded.

Gelo came to stand beside him and sighed deeply.

"It seems that we're in a more desperate situation than we thought," he murmured.

"How so?"

"Kerkyon told me that the rumour is that the garrisons in the outlying towns are deserting in their droves," Gelo replied. "When our _new King_ ," he laced the words with contempt, "finally decides to turn his attention to the rest of the kingdom he will meet with little resistance. The Amphigeneians will simply be able to walk in and take over most of it without a fight."

"The garrisons are deserting," Meriones murmured to himself. He looked sharply at Gelo. "Where are the men from the garrisons going?" he asked.

"No-one knows," Gelo answered. "All Kerkyon could say was that they are leaving the towns and apparently disappearing. Most people think they're just going to their home towns and trying to hide the fact they were soldiers."

"I find that unlikely," Meriones retorted. "One or two soldiers maybe… even a dozen or two… but to desert en masse? For all the garrisons to decide to desert at the same time? No, my friend. There is more at work here than a few soldiers returning home."

"So where do you think they're going?" Gelo asked.

Meriones grinned.

"I think they are following orders."

"What orders?" Gelo demanded with confusion. "Whose?"

"I think that if we wished for proof that King Minos had survived and escaped we have it," Meriones answered. "I think he is gathering an army and is calling his men to him. I only hope that wherever he is hiding… wherever the army is gathering… they manage to remain secret for long enough to form properly and plan their attack… I would not wish Anaxandros to learn of their location and fall on them before they are prepared."

"You believe this is truly possible?" Gelo asked.

"I do, my friend," Meriones answered. "I do indeed. It gives me hope that the city might be reclaimed yet. Now, what news from the city?"

"More are arrested every day," Gelo said morosely. "More than we could ever manage to help. Anaxandros' prison cells are bursting with the condemned… and still the people go to watch his 'games' in the arena; to watch their friends and neighbours being torn apart."

"They go because they are afraid," Meriones stated softly. "Because they fear that if they are not seen to support the regime they too will be condemned to a terrible fate. Do not condemn them for their fear. You saw how the people fought the night the Amphigeneians first broke into the city… they would fight again if they believed there to be any chance of success. For now, they see no hope… but hope will come."

"You believe that?"

"I have to my friend, because if I do not – if I lose hope – then all we are working for has been for nothing… and I refuse to accept that. No. Hope will return when we least expect it and the Amphigeneians will be swept from the city and back to where they came from."

"I think maybe Anaxandros fears the same thing," Gelo said. "I thought that Minos was paranoid but he had nothing on Anaxandros."

"What has he done now?"

"The same as what he was doing before really. Issuing increasingly paranoid proclamations. Sending out his soldiers to arrest anyone even suspected of dissent. There's an old woman that's one of the spice sellers in the agora. She was moaning about the fact that she's had trouble with her supplies for the past few weeks and the next thing you know she's been arrested on suspicion of sedition and treason and carted off to the cells. The woman's half blind and walks with a stick!"

"Not someone we supply?" Meriones asked. He knew most of the market traders he dealt with by name and was naturally a little concerned that any investigation might focus attention onto him – something which he needed to avoid under the present circumstances for as long as possible.

"No. She gets her supplies from Audax," Gelo answered, naming one of Meriones' competitors. "But there's no way she could have been plotting treason – the woman can barely walk. From what I've gathered the soldiers have been and rounded up her entire family too… including her husband and he's been an invalid in bed for the last five years."

"As I have said before, they are trying to rule by fear," Meriones murmured. "What Anaxandros fails to realise though, is that the more he oppresses the people the more he will kindle the flame of rebellion. As he tightens the net, more and more people will slip through the gaps."

"Every proclamation he issues is a variation on the same theme," Gelo stated. "How Minos was an evil usurper; how we're all lucky to have Anaxandros as our new King; how it's the duty of every citizen to inform against their friends and neighbours; how all goods and wealth must be reported to the new overseers; how the King and the Princess _must_ be found and anyone found to have information about their whereabouts or to be harbouring any "fugitives from justice" will be dealt with without mercy… but the strange thing is that every proclamation also contains a demand for information about King Aeson's son. It's all very odd. It's like Anaxandros is obsessed with chasing a ghost… but ghosts do not really exist. Unless of course the rumours were true and the child survived."

Meriones looked away, schooling his expression to remain blank. Gelo looked at him sharply.

"What do you know of this?" he demanded.

"I?" Meriones said. "I know nothing."

"Don't give me that," Gelo said abruptly. "I know you too well. You know _something_ , even if you don't want to tell me what that something is. _Did_ the Prince survive?"

"How would a humble merchant like myself know that?" Meriones asked.

"Meriones," Gelo growled. "I've worked for you since I was a boy. I know you too well. You have contacts everywhere. There is very little that goes on in this city that you do not know about. Now _tell me_ what you know."

Meriones sighed.

"The child survived," he said shortly.

"And you know what happened to him," Gelo breathed.

"I do not know where the boy was taken when he was spirited from the city," Meriones answered. "I had nothing to do with it and knew nothing of it for many years. Nor do I know exactly where he is now."

It was strictly speaking the truth, he told himself. After all, he knew that Jason had escaped the city but didn't know where he had gone since.

"You know where he _was_ though," Gelo said shrewdly. "And you know _who_ he is."

Meriones sighed.

"I cannot tell you," he said. He raised one enormous hand to forestall his friend's objection. "I am not keeping this from you in an attempt to protect you – although it is dangerous knowledge to possess. I am protecting…" he broke off and looked away. "It is not my secret to tell," he said softly, "and it is unclear whether the boy will wish to lay claim to his birth right. If he does not then it would be safer for him and be kinder to him to allow him to remain anonymous."

"The child would have grown into a young man now," Gelo mused. "He must be… what? Early to mid-twenties? He cannot have been raised in or near to Atlantis or his identity would probably have been discovered before now… and yet he must have ties to the city for you to have learned who he is. Perhaps he returned here when he was older? So a relative newcomer then. Since he was taken away as an infant the boy is going to be pretty much unrecognisable… but most people have at least a passing resemblance to their parents."

"Please, my friend," Meriones murmured. "I beg of you. You must cease this speculation. No good can come of it and you would only endanger both us and those I seek to protect."

"I won't say any more about it," Gelo promised. "But the more that Anaxandros mentions the Prince in his proclamations, the more people are wondering."

"I know," Meriones said. "He made a mistake with that first proclamation and is only compounding it now. It appears that our new King is not a man who can easily accept that anything he has done is a mistake… It may work to our advantage now. There are others acting as we are in other parts of the city… others who are risking everything to save as many as they can from the Amphigeneians and who are resisting the new rule in every way possible. It would be precipitous to make any direct moves against our oppressors but the more rumours we can spread in secret the more resistance and discontent will grow. I will try to get word to those brave souls in the city who are resisting the Amphigeneian tyranny. We will use Anaxandros' mistake against him."

"But won't that also endanger those you are trying to protect?" Gelo asked.

"As long as the boy's identity remains a secret it will not," Meriones answered. "There are few people who know him well enough to even make a guess as to his true identity."

"So why did you suggest that _my_ speculations might have endangered him?" Gelo asked, sounding slightly affronted.

"Because you know what others do not," Meriones pointed out. "That _I_ know his identity. I think it would lead you to the truth before too long. Others will not even know that much and so any speculation on the part of the populous will be largely idle speculation."

Gelo sighed softly.

"Oh I think I can probably already hazard a guess at the truth," he said with a wry twist to his mouth. "It is as well that our friends are out of the city at the moment."

"It is indeed, my friend," Meriones answered. "It is indeed."

* * *

"He has demanded _what_?"

It had been a long time since Minos had heard Pasiphae sound so livid. He looked at his wife in surprise. Somehow, given the antagonistic nature of the relationship between his wife and daughter, he hadn't thought she would be angered by Agrias' request. Yet it seemed that she was positively seething.

"How dare he?" Pasiphae demanded. "How dare he be so arrogant as to presume…" She took a deep breath to regain control of herself.

This did not suit her plans at all and yet her plans would come to nothing if Atlantis could not be reclaimed – and for that they would need all the help and troops they could get. That was the most galling thing of all – they needed Agrias' help and for that they must acquiesce to his demands. Ironically, Pasiphae could see the attraction for the Tanagran monarch. Ariadne was perhaps Atlantis' greatest asset and prize. Much as she was not overly fond of the girl, the Queen could see her value. To an ambitious king looking for an advantageous match for his younger son she must look like an enticing trophy indeed. After all she would bring to any marriage the prospect of the annexation of an entire kingdom; of obtaining a domain for a younger son to rule where he might be kept from challenging his older brother for the throne of his native kingdom and used to obtain additional resources for the land of his birth. To demand Ariadne's hand in exchange for Agrias' help in reclaiming Atlantis was a very clever ploy and one which, had the situations been reversed, Pasiphae might have considered herself.

But marrying Ariadne off to the younger son of a rival king had never been part of any plan – either the King or Queen's. To lose control of the city in that way was, to Pasiphae's mind, unthinkable. No. When the time was right Ariadne should be married off to Jason. That would ensure Pasiphae's position for the next generation. Plus, it would ensure her son's happiness – something that Pasiphae was surprised to discover was remarkably important to her and growing more important each day.

The Queen moved to the window and stared out at the vineyard that clung to the sides of the hill, lashed by the storm as it had been for much of the afternoon, as she tried to come up with an acceptable solution to Minos' dilemma. It was true that she and Ariadne had been at loggerheads for years but, having endured a marriage to a man she had not met, Pasiphae would still like to save her stepdaughter from that fate – that indignity – if she could.

It was only a betrothal that was under discussion though, she reminded herself, and not actually a marriage (although she was in no doubt that as soon as the engysis was made Agrias would push for a quick wedding to seal the deal) – and as had happened with Heptarian, betrothal agreements could be broken for a variety of reasons. Minos would not agree to such a thing, of course. In spite of the way he had taken the throne in the first place, he was far too honourable to make an engysis for his daughter knowing that he intended to break it in the future. Besides which it would be a bad move politically; would only lead to distrust and discord among his allies and could potentially cause conflict between Atlantis and Tanagra.

If the betrothal were made (and it seemed to Pasiphae's sharp, political mind that it _would_ have to be made) then it would be down to the Queen to find a way to break it without any hint of scandal falling on either Minos or Ariadne. She would have to find a way to make either Agrias or his son choose to break the engysis of their own accord while still maintaining the image of Atlantis. Such a thing _could_ be done of course, but it would take a deal of political manoeuvring behind the scenes on her part – and no-one could ever know that she had done it.

"Agrias of Tanagra is a man of little honour to suggest that you should marry your only daughter to his son without ever even seeing the boy," Pasiphae said coldly. "We only have his word for the fact that the boy is as worthy as he claims. He must come here and be judged before any engysis can be made."

"I told Agrias much the same thing," Minos answered flatly. "Although I was careful not to imply that Agrias' son might be any less than his father was claiming. It seemed imprudent to suggest otherwise."

"Indeed," Pasiphae agreed.

"I had not expected you to be so angry about this matter," Minos ventured. "I am… aware that you and Ariadne are not close."

It was the closest Minos had ever come to admitting that the relationship between his wife and daughter was less than cordial, Pasiphae noted.

"Regardless of any tension between us and what might have passed between us in the past, I have no wish to see your daughter condemned to a loveless marriage with a man she has not even met," she answered coolly. "I was once a young bride, married to a man that I did not know; given away to a husband who I had never laid eyes on to protect my country's interests. I remember it all too well and would save Ariadne that fate if I could."

"Your feelings do you credit," Minos murmured. He sat down heavily on a couch in the corner of the private chamber he and his wife were talking in. "I need your wisdom now, Pasiphae. I cannot see clearly what I must do. The Gods help me, I need Agrias' men… and I cannot afford to offend him. If I were to refuse his demand he would remove his troops back to his own kingdom and refuse to come to our aid, and I suspect that others of our allies would desert us under those circumstances. Yet how can I promise him ultimate control over Atlantis – for I can foresee no other outcome. If his son is married to my daughter then he will become heir to Atlantis and ultimately the city and kingdom will fall under the control of Tanagra. And how can I give him – an unknown boy – my daughter? Am I to sacrifice her happiness for the sake of the city?"

"We cannot afford to show weakness, Minos," Pasiphae answered sharply. "Our enemies are circling and if we are to have any chance of regaining Atlantis we _must_ be strong."

"What would you have me do?" Minos asked. "Must I gamble with both our city and my daughter's feelings? I know of Ariadne's feelings for Jason… and that they are returned. I had hoped that with time that your son might prove worthy as a suitor for Ariadne but it seems that our time has run out. No matter what my own feelings in the matter might be I am not sure I can risk losing Agrias' army and potentially the chance to retake Atlantis. I cannot see a way out of this betrothal no matter how hard I try and no matter how distasteful the match might seem to be. Agrias has me trapped. I need your advice like never before."

"And you shall have it My Lord," Pasiphae murmured, coming to stand beside her husband. She took a breath, her mind working quickly. "You are right, I think. The engysis _must_ be made. No matter how much we may dislike the outcome or the way you have been forced into it. We must make the best of the situation as best we can. As long as Atlantis is not in your hands our position is weak and our ability to bargain poor. We must pray to the Gods for their help. Only they can bless any union between Ariadne and Agrias' son. If it is their will that Ariadne should marry this boy, then they will make it known. For now, it is paramount that you obtain the support that you need to reclaim Atlantis. Until we are back in our rightful places everything else must be of secondary consideration. Make the betrothal… _but_ make it clear to Agrias that no actual marriage can take place until Atlantis is back in your hands."

Minos sighed.

"Very well," he said. "You are right. Atlantis must come above every other concern. I will agree to Agrias' terms and give his son my daughter's hand. He has given me this night to make my decision and inform Ariadne, and I will go to him tomorrow to give him my answer and make the agreement. The formal engysis must wait for the boy to arrive in Pagenia but an agreement in principle will be made between myself and his father. I will speak with Ariadne after supper tonight."

Pasiphae nodded and turned away, a dark and unpleasant smile coming over her features out of sight of her husband. Let Agrias make his play for control over Atlantis; let the betrothal be made and the Tanagran monarch think that he had won. Pasiphae would ensure that no marriage would ever take place. As soon as Minos had reclaimed Atlantis, she would strike and remove the threat that this boy posed. This was a game that she had no intention of losing.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N Well I'm back! Sorry for the delay - real life and another story have got in the way over the last few weeks but hopefully normal service has now been resumed :-)

Thank you all for the lovely reviews. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.

* * *

Pasiphae had risen later than usual having spent part of the previous night sitting up and thinking; plotting her way out of the situation they found themselves in. The engysis must be made between Agrias of Tanagra's son and Ariadne, that much was clear, and yet the marriage itself must be prevented at all costs. Pasiphae already had several ideas for how such a thing might be achieved – ideas which she now fully intended to put into practice – but for that she needed to gain time. She had told Minos last evening to make sure that Agrias understood that the marriage could not take place until they were back within the walls of Atlantis (which should buy her all the time she really needed to achieve her ends) but it might well be that the Tanagran monarch tried to force Minos' hand even further and insist on the marriage taking place immediately. It was that prospect that had kept Pasiphae up into the night; that thing which must be prevented at all costs. Finally, at an hour far later than she would have liked, an idea had come to her. It was not one which she particularly liked, given that it would leave her in the debt of another, but it should work.

As a result of her late rising, the Queen had been mildly annoyed to find that she had missed her son. Jason had apparently risen early, had a quick breakfast and had been seen by the overseer, Alexarchos, disappearing onto the slopes behind the royal estate with his friend Pythagoras; both young men apparently wearing cloaks and carrying full satchels. Pasiphae frowned to herself as she stood in a window overlooking the central courtyard, deep in thought. She had had little time yesterday to see Jason and was a little surprised to find that she had missed him. Of course she had seen him at supper but there had been too many people present to have any real sort of conversation. She had hoped to speak with him early this morning – if only to try to prepare him for the news that Ariadne was to be betrothed. Pasiphae had the uncomfortable feeling that Jason would not take that news well at all.

Then there was the matter of his education to see to. She had instructed Pythagoras to begin the process of testing Jason to see where any deficiencies in his knowledge might lie. She suspected that the earnest young blonde would have begun yesterday and had fully expected him to continue today, and to come to her at some point with his findings. It was therefore disappointing to find that her son and his younger friend had chosen to go wandering today. Briefly, Pasiphae wondered whether she had made a mistake in appointing Pythagoras as her son's tutor. It was true that they were friends and that she truly believed that Jason would react better to a teacher he liked, but perhaps Pythagoras was not strong enough to stand his ground against her wilful son; perhaps he would simply give in to Jason's desires and allow his 'pupil' to go his own way rather than instructing him as she wanted. It was a situation that would require careful monitoring she felt, and she scarcely had time for it at present.

It had begun to rain a short time earlier. Nothing more than a heavy shower, the Queen surmised. Fat droplets of rain splattered down into the courtyard below and the servants darted back and forth across it, trying to stay as dry as possible. As Pasiphae watched, two figures dashed in through the entrance to the courtyard and under the edge of the covered walkway to the left of the gate, shaking raindrops from the folds of their cloaks and grinning like idiots at one another. Pasiphae allowed herself an indulgent smile – something that she would never have imagined herself doing just a couple of months ago. Somehow she thought she should probably be annoyed at her son and his friend leaving the house on such an unpromising day – weather wise that was – and getting caught in a shower as a result. Yet she could not. There was something very precious about watching him laughing and joking with his friend when he thought he was unobserved and his guard was completely down; it was as though he lit up inside whenever he really smiled.

Tuning out the world around her and, for the time being at least, ignoring the problems she was supposed to be thinking about, Pasiphae drew a step closer to the window, her eyes never leaving the two young men on the other side of the courtyard. Pythagoras said something with a laugh and, even at this distance, Pasiphae could see Jason roll his eyes, although he also burst out laughing – and Pasiphae could just imagine the sound of his bright giggle. Her own smile widened. Jason said something in response to his friend and then they were off again, racing across the courtyard together towards the main door, trying to avoid getting any wetter.

Pasiphae watched until they ran out of sight, presuming that they had come indoors. At least she would have the opportunity to speak with her son now, although perhaps she ought to allow him to remove his wet outer garments first. Her mind began to circle back to the problems they were all facing once again after the brief but more pleasant interlude.

"My Lady," Dion's voice was deferential enough but lacked the obsequiousness of some of the higher ranking servants both at the Palace in Atlantis and here at Pagenia.

"What is it?" Pasiphae demanded, although she did not bother to turn away from the window.

"The King has requested a brief moment of your time," the big general stated calmly.

"Of course," Pasiphae answered. "You will take me to him."

Her conversation with Jason could wait, she decided. After all, neither of them was really going anywhere. There would be plenty of time to speak with him once she had finished her conversation with her husband – and, really, Minos would only have sent for her if the matter was important and could not wait. The fact that he had sent his general rather than a servant to find her spoke volumes to her mind. Turning away from the window, she followed Dion towards one of the rooms that had been set aside for the King to use as council chambers.

At another window on the same side of the building, in a sitting room a little further down from where the Queen had been watching and unknown to Pasiphae, Ariadne had also been looking out over the courtyard and had watched Jason and Pythagoras return from wherever they had been – although the sight gave her none of the pleasure she usually associated with seeing the young hero. No, seeing Jason right now was distinctly painful – especially when she thought of the conversation she must inevitably have with him. This was news that she did not want him to hear from anyone else after all. If nothing else, Ariadne felt she owed it to Jason to tell him herself. In her experience servants liked to gossip and it would not do for him to hear anything that way. Fighting back the tears that were still threatening to fall (had been threatening to fall ever since her father had spoken to her after supper last night), Ariadne drew deeply on her reserves and forced the mask of the untouchable and serene Princess back into place as she called for a servant.

Alexarchos answered the summons, delivered by one of the soldiers detailed to protect the Princess this morning, in remarkably quick time. The man might be overseer for the entire royal estate here in Pagenia but he clearly also regarded it as his duty to serve the royal family personally while they were here; to cater to their whims and needs.

"I wish to speak with Jason," Ariadne informed the man softly but firmly, leaving no doubt that her desire was actually an order. "Bring him to me."

As Alexarchos murmured his assent and hurried off, Ariadne turned back to the window. What exactly was she going to say? No matter what words she chose she knew that she would be breaking the heart of the person she loved most in the world – the man she had dreamed of spending her life with – just as hers had been broken by her conversation with her father.

All too soon Jason was there. He came towards her with a soft smile turning his mouth up at the corners and his love plainly written in his eyes. Ariadne found that she had to turn away to save herself from bursting into tears on the spot. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jason's smile falter slightly.

"Ariadne?" he said gently. "Is something the matter?"

Ariadne swallowed a sob, forcing herself to appear calm. She turned to look imperiously at the still hovering Alexarchos, channelling every bit of the cold aloofness she had learned from watching Pasiphae over the years into her expression.

"Leave us," she demanded.

"My Lady," Alexarchos began.

Ariadne did not bother to speak again. She simply raised one eyebrow as she had seen her stepmother do ever since she was a little girl, regarding the servant with a cold expression that brooked no disagreement. Much as she knew that her father had insisted that she and Jason were chaperoned at all times back when they were in the Palace in Atlantis (and was it really only a month or so ago?), she also knew that he was aware of her intention today and would not insist upon an outsider being present for this particular conversation – as much for Jason's sake as her own, she felt.

Alexarchos was as suitably cowed by her expression as the servants back in the Palace had been whenever Pasiphae had looked at them that way, and left with a bow and some murmured platitudes. For a brief moment Ariadne felt a little surge of triumph before the reality of her situation hit her again. From the corner of her eye she spotted Jason blink in surprise and realised that this was probably the first time he had seen her in her full role of Princess.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, taking a step towards her but not actually touching her – something that Ariadne was grateful for. This would be hard enough as it was. He joined her in looking out across the courtyard.

"So many lives have been lost since Anaxandros invaded," she answered sadly. "There has been so much death and destruction."

"I know," Jason replied. "But most of them died defending what they loved… their homes… their city. They fought because they believed in your father." He looked at Ariadne, his concern written on his face. "What is it?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Ariadne choked back a sob.

"My father once told me that as heir to the throne the day might come when I had to sacrifice everything I held dearest. It's only now that I understand what he meant." Ariadne swallowed hard, still fighting back tears. She turned to face Jason. "We can never be together," she said.

Jason's frown deepened.

"Ariadne," he began. "What…"

"We can never be together," Ariadne repeated with more strength in her voice than she felt inside, "because I am to marry another."

Jason stared at her.

"You can't be serious," he said.

"My father is to make the agreement this morning," Ariadne answered. "I am told that my husband-to-be is a suitable match; that he is dutiful and worthy. He is also the son of King Agrias of Tanagra. King Agrias has agreed to lend us the full weight of his army if I marry his son."

"How can your father ask this of you?" Jason demanded, his expression darkening angrily.

"I have always known that my marriage must be about more than love," Ariadne replied. "I am Princess of Atlantis… daughter of the King… and my marriage must be for the benefit of the city. I have a duty to my people. A duty to Poseidon himself. Understand, please, that this is how it must be… and do not make this any harder than it has to be."

Jason reached towards her but allowed his hand to fall helplessly as Ariadne took a step back from him.

"You told me once that you loved me with all your heart," he murmured hoarsely. "Look me in the eyes and tell me that your feelings have changed and I'll never speak of it again."

Ariadne drew a shuddering breath. Tears ran down her cheeks but her head remained high.

"My feelings towards you have not changed in the slightest," she said, her voice low, "as I think you are well aware… but that does not alter the position that we are in. My feelings do not come into this at all. Were the choice mine alone I would not leave you for an instant… but I am not free. Neither one of us is truly free."

"We could be," Jason responded urgently, desperation colouring his tone. "You don't have to do this. We could leave together… leave today…"

"And go where?" Ariadne retorted. "With Anaxandros and his Amphigeneians hunting for us both, where could we ever go that was safe? My father would search to the ends of the earth to find us and nowhere would be safe. And if I left I would be abandoning my people… abandoning my father… I could never do that."

"Can't you see that what he's forcing you to do is just plain wrong?" Jason demanded.

"My father is not forcing me to do anything," Ariadne answered. "He came to me after supper last night and explained the price King Agrias was demanding for his help… and it is help that Atlantis desperately needs. Can you not see that everything we do must be for the good of the people? I have agreed to marry King Agrias' son of my own free will and accord."

"You've agreed to this?" Jason asked numbly.

"I have agreed," Ariadne confirmed. She drew another shuddering breath and looked straight into Jason's eyes, knowing that she was seeing his heart break in front of her. "Now more than ever everything I do must serve to protect Atlantis and its people."

She watched the light go out of Jason's eyes as though a door was closing, as he schooled his features into as impassive an expression as he could manage and shoved his feelings out of sight behind a hastily constructed defensive wall. How could he do that so quickly, she wondered. How could he hide his feelings so easily?

"Then we can be united in that… if nothing else," he answered, his voice remarkably steady – although Ariadne could still detect a note of underlying devastation in it.

He backed away from her slowly and turned to leave.

"Jason," Ariadne called after him, unable to keep her voice from breaking.

Jason paused and half turned his head, his back to her.

"I'm sorry," the Princess said.

Jason didn't reply, although Ariadne heard the shuddering breath he let out clearly. He paced away from her with his back straight and head held high, leaving the room as quickly as he could.

Ariadne turned back towards the window, unable to supress her sobs any longer.

"Ariadne?" Pasiphae's voice was soft, questioning.

Ariadne fought to control herself. The last person she wanted to see her falling apart was her stepmother. Pasiphae must have entered the room via the other door, at the opposite end of the room from the one Jason had used, Ariadne thought somewhat randomly. Otherwise she would surely have stopped to speak with her son.

"Your father tells me he has spoken with you about King Agrias' demands," the Queen went on, an unexpected note of pity in her tone. "He tells me that you have accepted your betrothal to King Agrias' son."

"I have," the girl answered shortly, her voice hitching.

"You have done what is best for Atlantis," Pasiphae replied softly. "And I can see how difficult this decision has been."

"I have spoken with Jason," Ariadne said through shuddering breaths. "I owed him the truth."

Pasiphae sighed softly to herself. If Ariadne had informed Jason of her impending betrothal (a little precipitately as far as the Queen was concerned), then there were potentially two broken hearts to deal with. If Agrias was to be stopped from achieving his desire and the engysis was to be broken, Pasiphae could not afford to be distracted by the emotions of her son and stepdaughter.

She looked at Ariadne and felt a surge of emotion that could best be described as pity. No one – not even Ariadne – truly deserved this. It was true that if Pasiphae's machinations had come to fruition all those months ago Ariadne would be married to Heptarian – a man she had clearly despised – with little thought for the girl's own feelings, and yet somehow the thought of marrying her to a complete stranger was worse.

 _You are becoming too soft_ , a cynical little voice in Pasiphae's head said sharply. _What does it matter how Ariadne feels? It has never mattered before so why should it matter now?_

 _Because I was once where she is now,_ another part of her responded. _I remember all too well how lonely it was… and because if she gives in and marries Agrias' son everything I have worked for will be lost._

"I could not bear Jason to hear that I am to be betrothed from anyone else," Ariadne went on. "He deserves better than to hear the news from gossip."

She put her hand up over her mouth and hunched in on herself, trying to contain her sobs. Pasiphae's face softened even further and she opened her arms to the girl.

"Oh now come," she murmured, reaching out. "Come here."

Without even seeming to think about it Ariadne flew into her stepmother's arms, sobbing into the woman's shoulder with her arms around the Queen's back, as Pasiphae hugged her almost fiercely.

"You have done the right thing," Pasiphae murmured soothingly into her stepdaughter's hair. "I know how hard this has been for you but we had no choice. It will get better… it will."

Ariadne allowed herself to be held and consoled, unable for the moment to stop her tears from flowing or her devastation from showing.

"I promise you it will get better Ariadne," Pasiphae went on. "We will find a way out of this situation… but for now we had to lose a battle to win the war." She drew back slightly from the girl, holding her at arm's length. "I promise you that I will find a way to stop this marriage," she murmured. "You will not have to marry this boy if you do not wish to."

"Why would you help me?" Ariadne choked out.

Pasiphae sighed.

"Because I remember what it is to be a young princess forced into marriage with a man I had not even met," Pasiphae answered. "I told you once that I was not so very different from you when I was young and, whether you chose to believe it or not, it was the truth… and I will help you because I would see my son happy. The engysis must go ahead but you know better than anyone that it can be broken if it is the will of the Gods."

She looked significantly at Ariadne, remembering the girl's own manipulation of the situation to ensure she had not had to marry Heptarian – something which had been deeply galling to Pasiphae at the time.

Ariadne shook her head, still sobbing softly.

"To break a betrothal to the son of another king would bring dishonour on my father and endanger Atlantis," she said tearfully. "I will never do that – even if it means that I must give up that which I hold most dear. I have a duty which must be fulfilled and I will not shirk it no matter what the cost might be to me."

To Ariadne's surprise, Pasiphae pulled her in close again, one hand on the girl's back and the other stroking her thick black hair. In spite of Ariadne's brave words, she found herself crying into the woman's shoulder once again.

The irony of the fact that the last time she had hugged her stepdaughter had been when the girl had been forced to give up Jason just as she was being forced to now, was not lost on Pasiphae – although her own intentions and feelings in the matter had changed even if her underlying motivation had not. Then she had promoted an unwanted marriage (unwanted by Ariadne at least) in order to maintain her own grip on power; now she was actively trying to prevent one for the same reasons.

"I promise you that I will find a way to prevent this marriage," Pasiphae repeated, "without any harm coming to your father or Atlantis. I am not your enemy in this Ariadne… I am your ally. Atlantis is a great city and I would see it strong again, and not made a vassal state to Tanagra or left in the hands of the Amphigeneians. You are a dutiful daughter to your father and a faithful servant of Poseidon but this is a situation that will require strength and cunning rather than devotion to duty. For the sake of Atlantis, we _must_ work together."

Ariadne drew back again, her tears slowing, and looked at her stepmother with suspicion. Past experience had taught her that Pasiphae was not to be trusted and yet recent events had forced her to re-evaluate some of her stepmother's actions and her own relationship with the woman. Whilst they would never be friends, were they still implacable enemies now that they had a mutual interest in common? Jason was important to them both it seemed. Much as it went against her instincts, the Princess had recently been forced to accept the fact that Pasiphae was all too human after all. Over the past few weeks she had seen the softer, maternal side of the woman appearing with increasing frequency as her relationship with her son and her love for him grew. Ariadne had also been forced into the uncomfortable realisation that perhaps she was not quite as blameless as she had always believed herself to be in the animosity that had grown up between herself and the Queen over the years. But could she trust Pasiphae now?

"What is it that you want of me?" She silently cursed the hitch in her own voice.

"I simply wish you to be the dutiful daughter that your father needs," Pasiphae answered smoothly. "I wish no more than for you to act as your conscience dictates. You are a Princess of Atlantis; a Goddess on Earth; you are the equal of anyone; superior to most. I would have you act with the grace and decorum you have always shown and to offer the same welcome to King Agrias' son that you would show to a visiting member of any royal family. That is all. _I_ will seek a way to break this engysis if it is at all possible… you may be sure of that."

* * *

Jason slammed in through the doorway of his room and let the door bang shut behind him with a satisfying thud. How had a good day managed to turn so bad so quickly? Spending yesterday with Pythagoras having his knowledge tested and educational levels assessed had actually been far more pleasant than he had been anticipating. Pythagoras, it turned out, was a natural born teacher as well as a scholar. The mathematician was clearly fascinated to learn about the education his dark haired friend had received. Jason had got up this morning knowing that, although today the "testing" would continue in order to satisfy the Queen's expectations, he could at least expect his friend to make it as enjoyable as possible.

In fact Pythagoras had suggested that they should go out onto the sheltered slopes of the hill that rose up behind the royal estate, where the grape vines that the local wine was produced from clung. Clearly he was taking Jason's comment that he hadn't liked to be cooped up in a classroom as a child in school seriously. The sharp shower had caught them both off guard (although Jason supposed that it shouldn't have really, given how cloudy the day was) and they had ended up shoving bits of parchment back into the satchels they were carrying and running back to the house to try and stop from getting too wet, laughing and joking all the way.

The summons from Ariadne had come as a surprise, just as Jason was removing his wet cloak and hanging it up (mainly because he didn't think his mother would take too kindly to him leaving it in a damp heap on the floor). Pythagoras had tactfully suggested that he would be in his own room whenever Jason had finished with Ariadne and that he should come and find him there when he was ready. Jason snorted and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He was certainly finished with Ariadne but he was far from ready to see anyone else – even one of his two closest friends. No, he decided, it would be better to put off any conversation with _anyone_ until he was a little more in control of himself.

Somehow he didn't fancy staying here though. There was a little too much chance of someone (his mother being the prime suspect given that she seemed to believe that she had the right to enter his chambers whenever she felt like it) walking in on him before he was ready to see anyone for a start. Actually a large part of Jason was longing to find a bolt hole where he could lick his wounds in peace and quiet – preferably as far away from Pagenia and Ariadne as possible. His feelings were a tangled mess of pain, anger and sorrow, and he hadn't even begun to sort them out; needed time to get his head straight in the wake of Ariadne's decision. The only thing that kept him from shoving a few bits into a bag and taking off was the thought that actually his friends and his mother (and, he was beginning to suspect, the King) would be worried. Still he needed to go somewhere – to get out and away even if it was only for a few hours.

The training grounds that had been set up for the troops alongside the military camp beyond the town walls would be perfect, Jason decided. There he would be able to happily batter one of the training dummies into the ground to his heart's content until he was a little calmer at least.

Without really thinking about it he grabbed his breastplate from where he had left it and threw it on over his head, tying the sides with practiced ease. Grabbing his sword and a couple of throwing knives, he paused to consider what else he might want to take with him. It would be good to get some target practice in with a bow, he decided. As he didn't have one to hand immediately there would hopefully be someone at the practice grounds he could borrow one off – and if not it wouldn't be the end of the world. Should he take food? Because he really couldn't see himself wanting to come back for lunch. The thought of eating made his stomach lurch though. Jason shuddered. He really couldn't see himself being hungry anytime soon to be honest.

At the door he paused and grabbed his cloak. He wouldn't wear it to practice fighting in – wouldn't want his arms bound up by it – but the weather was more than a little unpredictable and the walk to his destination would take the best part of half an hour by his estimate.

Slamming the door to his room provided a certain amount of satisfaction – even if it was a little childish, Jason decided. He turned and hurried off down the corridor towards one of the exits (a less used servant's entrance that he had discovered on his third day here that allowed him to come and go from the house in relative obscurity), walking as quickly as he dared without drawing attention to himself by breaking into an outright run.

Near the door to the chamber where Minos had set himself up to work, Jason paused. Nisos was guarding the King today it seemed. That was perfect. Jason jogged over to him.

"Hi," he said swiftly. "I'm just heading on out to the training grounds and I thought I'd better let someone know where I've gone – just in case anyone's looking for me, you know? If anyone asks could you let them know where I am?"

Nisos grinned at him.

"Of course," he replied. He looked around conspiratorially. "I wish I could join you. Guard duty isn't one of my favourite activities to be honest," he confessed.

"Thanks," Jason answered shortly, not wanting to prolong the conversation any further.

He turned and trotted off down the corridor again, completely missing the startled look that Nisos threw in his direction at his sharp tone.

The air was brisk as Jason made his way towards the training grounds and the weather remained fine, although the grey clouds overhead promised the possibility of more showers later on. Still, it was still better than the storms that had been lashing the coast on some days, Jason thought reflectively as he skirted the edge of the town, using the less trodden paths on the lower part of the slopes surrounding the settlement. There was a quicker route to his destination but that would mean going through the centre of town itself and for now Jason wanted to avoid seeing as many people as possible; had a feeling that in his present mood he wouldn't be able to keep his fragile grip on his temper if anyone annoyed him.

As he walked along the conversation he had had with Ariadne circled round and round in his head, the hurt bubbling up inside him.

 _You knew it was an impossible dream_ , an unhelpful part of his mind supplied. _You knew she was out of your league. This isn't a fairy tale after all_.

 _No_ , another part of his mind responded bitterly. _More like a bloody nightmare._

He clung to his anger like an anchor. Far better to be angry at the world than to allow the devastation he was feeling drive him to his knees. In his head Jason began to list all the people and things he was angry at, stoking the flames as much as possible. Yes, far better to be angry and take it out on a harmless dummy at the training grounds than anything else. At least this way, by the time he had finished the first stabs of pain would hopefully have numbed. Numbness would be a distinct improvement on how he was feeling right now.

The training grounds appeared before him and beyond them the camp of the rapidly assembling Atlantian troops. Jason paused for a moment to look and reflect. It was remarkable really how quickly and efficiently everything was falling into place, as though Poseidon himself was guiding everyone to a successful conclusion. Jason snorted to himself. The existence and power of the Gods was still something he struggled with even after all these months – somehow he just couldn't bring himself to have the blind faith that most of the populous had. There were definitely days when he acknowledged the fact that perhaps the Gods did exist in some form or another but at the same time he still couldn't quite accept the idea that they were all powerful or that he should simply acquiesce to the fate they seemed to have decided for him.

And what fate _did_ the Gods have in store for him? In the past few weeks he had begun to hope that it would involve marriage to the girl he loved, particularly after her declaration in the Palace garden a few days before the city had fallen, but Ariadne had squashed that hope ( _Don't think about that. Don't think about Ariadne. Really don't go there_ ). Jason felt his emotions begin to bubble up again and shoved them back down inside as hard as he could.

In front of him was a row of training dummies (really no more than a series of wooden posts with hay stuffed sacks hanging from them). Swallowing hard against the lump that didn't seem to want to leave his throat (a hard knot that seemed to extend down into his chest), Jason unclasped his cloak from around his neck and dropped it in a heap on the edge of the area. Stepping forwards, he forced himself to focus on what was in front of him, sword coming almost unbidden into his hand. The hilt felt natural against his palm; the grip moulded to the shape of his hand through months of use. Shoving all other thoughts away, Jason stepped up to the target and slashed at it with his blade, quickly losing himself as he began to train.

* * *

Pythagoras frowned. Where on earth had Jason got to? When he had gone to answer Ariadne's summons, neither of them had anticipated it taking much more than a few minutes. Pythagoras had settled down in his own chambers (shared of course with Hercules) to wait for his friend and had started to work on his mathematics while he had waited. The young mathematician wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed since then because he had once again lost himself in his studies and lost track of time but it must be – he consulted the water clock in the corner – yes, at least two hours had passed since Jason had gone to see his beloved Ariadne.

Pythagoras rolled his eyes and shook his head ruefully. Do doubt Jason was off somewhere spending every moment he could with the beauteous Princess. Pythagoras couldn't really find it in himself to begrudge his friend a few moments of happiness. After all Jason and Ariadne got precious little time together so it made sense that they would want to make the most of the time they did manage to get.

Still, Pythagoras knew he would have to go and find Jason and drag him away. Pasiphae was expecting to hear his assessments of Jason's level of education and the Queen would neither be amused nor put off by any prevarication on either her son's or Pythagoras' part. With that thought in mind the young genius stood up and started to make his way towards the door. As he drew near, the door opened. Pythagoras smiled, thinking that Jason was _finally_ coming back to start their study session, only to frown slightly when he realised that it was Hercules coming in.

"Have you seen Jason?" he demanded.

Hercules raised an eyebrow.

"No 'Hello Hercules. It's good to see you?'" he groused lightly. "I should have expected as much."

"Hercules," Pythagoras replied with some irritation. "Have you seen _Jason_?"

"I thought you were supposed to be educating him?" Hercules answered with a frown. "Don't tell me he's managed to give you the slip already!"

"We were supposed to be studying this morning, yes," Pythagoras said. "But Jason was summoned to a meeting with Princess Ariadne and I have not seen him since… and that was some time ago."

Hercules frowned.

"I just saw the Princess heading off to the Temple," he said. "Jason definitely wasn't with her."

"He must have gone back to his chambers then," Pythagoras remarked. "I thought we had agreed that we would meet here once he was finished with the Princess but perhaps I was mistaken."

Hercules' frown deepened.

"You don't normally make mistakes like that," he pointed out. "I know you can be a bit absent minded at times but you're always careful about keeping to agreements that you've made with friends."

"I certainly try," Pythagoras admitted. "Perhaps on this occasion there has been a miscommunication though. I will go and fetch him."

Jason's chambers were a little further on down the corridor and around the corner from his friends. Minos had requested that they be close to one another and Alexarchos had been most apologetic that this was the nearest he could place them. Since the party had arrived with no warning and the overseer had been put to unexpected trouble seeing to their needs, neither Jason nor either one of his friends had seen fit to complain.

At the door Pythagoras stopped and tapped, noting almost absently that Hercules was on his shoulder. He tapped the door softly. There was no response. Pythagoras frowned and rapped a little more firmly. When no reply came that time he stuck his head around the door. Pulling back, he looked at Hercules with a deep frown.

"Jason is not there," he said.

"Well maybe he's gone for a walk or something," Hercules answered. "You know what he gets like when he wanders off to think."

"A walk?" Pythagoras asked incredulously. "When we had arranged that he would come and find me once he was finished with Ariadne? Hercules, even Jason isn't _that_ absent minded. He knows better than I do what the Queen's expectations are and that she is most anxious that we should begin. I cannot see that he would so openly defy her on such a relatively unimportant matter… especially as this is something he has agreed to and actually seemed to be enjoying both yesterday and first thing this morning."

"Well what other explanation is there?" Hercules demanded.

"I do not know," Pythagoras admitted. "I can only think that perhaps something has happened and that Jason has been unexpectedly detained. In any case I think we should try to find out where he is before the Queen learns he is not where he is supposed to be."

Hercules grunted his assent, mildly annoyed that the foray into the town in search of the nearest pie shop that he had planned in his head (and which he had returned to his and Pythagoras' room to fetch his cloak for) would have to be postponed until later.

As they moved back through the corridors, peering into the open doorways of any public rooms (not bedrooms of course – neither of them relished the idea of having to explain to the King what they were doing if they got caught looking into one of the ladies bedrooms after all) to see if they could spot their absent friend, Alexarchos came hurrying in the opposite direction, barking orders at the young serving girl at his side who was almost having to run to keep up with him. Before he reached them, the overseer sent the girl scurrying off with one curt wave of his hand.

Pythagoras exchanged a brief look with Hercules and stepped forwards to intercept the man. Alexarchos frowned deeply at the interruption. He really didn't have time for this but equally did not want to offend guests of the King – no matter how lowly they might seem to his eyes. He really wasn't sure how he should treat this pair, in actual fact. They looked to be no more than peasants and yet he had been instructed to find room for them in the guest quarters; had been told that they were companions to Jason – a young man who he had been informed was of noble birth and had now learned was related in some way to the King and Queen. That meant that at the very least he needed to be polite to the pair.

"May I help you?" he enquired.

"I wondered if perhaps you had seen Jason recently?" Pythagoras asked.

"Not since I conveyed him to meet with the Princess Ariadne this morning," Alexarchos said shortly. "You must forgive me but my time is short and I have much yet to arrange for tonight's feast."

"Another feast?" Hercules rumbled, his mind automatically drawn to the thought of food and the dishes that might grace the table at a royal feast.

"A supper to celebrate the union of the royal houses of Atlantis and Tanagra," Alexarchos confirmed absently, eyes skimming over the parchment that he was holding. "It is, of course, a great honour for Pagenia that the Princess' betrothal should take place here," he added reflectively, "but it would have been better if we had been given a little more time to prepare."

Pythagoras blinked at him in surprise.

"Betrothal?" he enquired with confusion.

"Between the Princess Ariadne and the younger son of King Agrias of Tanagra," Alexarchos answered. "Now if there is nothing further you must excuse me. I have much to do."

As the overseer hurried off Pythagoras turned to Hercules, his blue eyes wide and worried.

"That must be why Ariadne wanted to see Jason so urgently," he said. "Hercules we must find him."

"He'll be devastated," Hercules agreed.

"Indeed," Pythagoras murmured. "I do not know where Jason would go," he admitted. "If we were at home I could make an educated guess, but here…"

"He could be anywhere," Hercules finished. "And with his history of running off on his own when he's upset…"

Pythagoras sighed and nodded his head slowly. Then he straightened his shoulders.

"Come on," he said much more decisively. "We have had to try to find Jason in far worse circumstances than these and at a time when I was truly afraid for him and of what he might do. For all I know he will be upset now I am not really afraid."

He started to walk down the corridor again, continuing to peer into the main family rooms as he passed. Hercules hurried to catch him up.

"Where are you going?" he demanded. "You said that you didn't know where Jason would go."

"Yes," Pythagoras agreed, "but we must start somewhere and we should at least check that he is not in the house."

As they rounded another corner they saw Nisos ahead of them, guarding to door to a chamber. Obviously the King was inside, Pythagoras thought. The young soldier spotted them coming and smiled. Their journey from Dodona to Pagenia had induced a camaraderie between the three men.

"It is good to see you my friends," Nisos said. "We have all been busy over the last few days."

"Indeed," Pythagoras answered. He hesitated. "We are looking for Jason," he admitted. "I do not suppose you have seen him." He did not hold out too much hope – Jason was generally just a little too good at avoiding people when he wanted to be alone.

"Actually I have," Nisos replied.

Hercules and Pythagoras exchanged a surprised look.

"When? Where?" the burly wrestler demanded urgently.

Nisos frowned at their reactions.

"Right here," he answered. "It was at least a couple of hours ago though… before the other kings came to join His Majesty in the council chamber." He jerked his thumb back over his shoulder to point to the room behind him. "Is Jason alright?" he added a little more suspiciously.

"Why do you ask?" Pythagoras hedged. In all honesty he wasn't entirely sure whether his friend was alright or not – which was why he wanted to find him.

"He seemed a little off," Nisos answered. "A little curt. So I ask again, is Jason alright?"

"Perhaps his thoughts were elsewhere," Pythagoras said evasively. "We are trying to find him because he is late for something… and as it is something that was arranged by the Queen…"

"I understand," Nisos replied. "The Queen is fearsome indeed when she is roused. I would not wish to get on her bad side."

"Quite," Pythagoras said. "You can see then why we are searching for him before Her Majesty realises he is not where he is supposed to be."

Nisos grinned.

"Well that's something I can help you with," he said. "Jason saw me before he went out and asked me to tell anyone that asked that he was going to the training grounds. He seemed to want to make sure that there was someone who knew where he was."

Internally, Hercules heaved a sigh of relief. It seemed as if it had finally managed to get through Jason's thick skull that his friends (and family) would worry less if he actually let someone know where he was going rather than simply running off on his own.

"Thank you. We will catch up with him there then." Hercules couldn't miss the note of relief in Pythagoras' voice as he thanked the young soldier.

"No problem," Nisos replied. "I might head over there myself as soon as my duty is finished."

Having bid farewell to the helpful young soldier, the two friends swiftly made their way outside. Hercules turned to Pythagoras.

"Training grounds?" he asked.

"Training grounds," confirmed Pythagoras firmly.

No further discussion was necessary as they set off, taking the shorter (and therefore quicker) path through the town itself.

Pagenia was certainly no Atlantis, Pythagoras reflected as they walked briskly towards their destination. Far from the large and bustling city he was used to, with its dusty and noisy streets, this was a sleepy little backwater, the playground for retired courtiers who wished to escape the pace of life in Atlantis itself. The recent influx of soldiers had massively increased the population and most of the townsfolk still bore a startled look at the sudden incursion into their quiet lives, although the market traders were rapidly becoming extremely wealthy.

"Pythagoras."

The young mathematician swore under his breath. He begrudged any delay in his mission to find his younger friend but his good manners would not allow him to walk on without at least acknowledging the fact that he was being hailed. Alongside him he heard Hercules cursing more audibly and knew his older friend felt much the same way about the interruption.

They waited for Dion to catch up with them with barely restrained impatience. The burly general walked with the straight back and measured pace that would have instantly marked him out as a career soldier even if he had not been wearing his armour and Atlantian blue cloak.

"The King has decided to end the day's negotiations early," he rumbled as he joined them. "He has decided to take a light lunch and work alone this afternoon. As my presence will not be required I had thought to visit the camps and check on the needs of the army; to consult with the officers. There is much to be done before we are prepared to retake Atlantis. As you seem to be heading in the same direction I would appreciate the company."

"We were going to the training grounds," Hercules answered shortly, his tone almost bordering on rude and leaving no doubt that he did not appreciate the delay.

"But we would be happy to walk with you until our paths diverge," Pythagoras added with a sharp look at his friend.

"I will go with you that far," Dion decided. "I must check on the supplies at the training grounds too."

"Excellent," Hercules muttered, clearly not best pleased. It wasn't that he disliked Dion in any way – the general had proved to be a good ally in the few weeks they had known him – but the burly wrestler wasn't entirely sure what mood they would find Jason in when they did eventually meet up with him and felt that it would probably be dealt with best just between the three of them without any outsiders.

The sight that greeted them at the training grounds made Hercules wince. Clearly Jason had already worked himself up into a state. His friend was attacking one of the training dummies with almost frightening ferocity, breathing hard and with his dark curls drenched with sweat – visible signs of the effort he was putting in and the energy he was expending. Viewed dispassionately, the burly wrestler would have to admit that the young man was very, very good; moving with stunning speed and remarkable grace; every movement precise and every sword cut or thrust perfectly aimed. The friend in Hercules, however, couldn't help but worry at the turmoil he could see bubbling below the surface and written in Jason's every movement.

"How long has he been here?" Hercules heard Dion murmur, and turned to see the big general talking to the soldier who had been appointed to oversee the training grounds.

"For the last couple of hours," the soldier, a grizzled old veteran, replied promptly.

"And he has kept up that pace for the whole time?" Dion was frowning deeply.

"Yes Sir," the soldier responded. He hesitated for a moment. "That's his fourth dummy," he admitted. "He's already broken three."

Hercules winced again.

"Jason." Pythagoras had drawn up near his friend – although he had made sure to place himself within his friend's sight and just beyond the reach of his swinging sword.

Jason ignored him.

"Jason," Pythagoras said again. "Talk to me. Please."

Jason paused. The sack of hay hanging from the stake before him had nearly been obliterated and the stake itself listed at a crazy angle. He lowered his sword and turned to his friend, shoulders heaving with exertion and ran his free hand through his hair to stop the sweat from dripping into his eyes.

"About what?" he asked quietly. "There's nothing to say. The decision has been made… and it's nothing to do with me now."

"Jason," Pythagoras began again.

"Leave me alone Pythagoras," Jason said in the same soft voice. "I'm busy."

It would almost have been better if he'd been shouting, Hercules decided; raging against the injustice of the world. As it was, that quiet, almost numb tone reminded the burly wrestler uncomfortably of the way Jason had been in the few days after he had been attacked by Alektryon whenever anyone had brought the subject up – and they all knew where that had led. The thought that his young friend might be trying to separate himself from his feelings once again – might be trying to retreat into a sort of cocoon to protect himself from everything – worried Hercules a great deal. Whilst he didn't really think that Jason was anywhere near as close to the edge or as emotionally fragile as he had been back then, it was still something that Hercules felt should be avoided if possible.

Jason turned away from Pythagoras and raised his sword again, bringing it down toward the target in a widely arcing slash. At the last moment it was turned aside with a resounding clash as metal met metal. Jason looked up, startled.

At one side of the training dummy Dion stared back at him, his stern face expressionless and his drawn sword held loosely in his hand.

"Perhaps if you do not wish to talk you would prefer to spar?" the big general said. "I would… enjoy the practice."

At Jason's curt nod Dion turned away and unclasped his cloak, handing it to the wide-eyed Pythagoras. In the background Hercules glowered slightly. Although he understood what Dion was about to do (and largely agreed with it) he would still have preferred it if the general hadn't been here; if it could have been handled between the three of them alone without anyone from outside seeing.

Dion turned back and raised his sword in salute to his opponent. Jason copied him, eyes intently on the soldier.

The fight was short, sharp and brutal – and perhaps far more evenly matched than anyone would have expected. Jason had youth, speed and agility on his side but he was also tired from the last couple of hours of hard practicing. Dion, on the other hand, might not have been as quick or as agile but he had a wealth of experience on his side that his younger sparring partner did not possess. Neither one of them went easy upon the other in any way.

Dion couldn't help the smile that came to his face as Jason danced away from a slashing cut. As general it was not often that he got the chance to engage in this sort of sparring session, although he kept himself in practice with the training dummies at whichever garrison he was based at. To face an opponent across the training ground had become a luxury and was something that still set his blood pumping.

It helped that the young man was a talented opponent as well. As they sparred though, Dion began to detect the flaws in Jason's technique; the fundamental errors that could make the difference between winning and losing in a fight. He stepped back as the lad lunged at him, flicking the sword thrust away with the edge of his blade and considered the matter thoughtfully.

"Not bad," he grunted, "but not quite good enough."

He was rewarded by seeing anger flare briefly in Jason's hazel eyes – just as he had expected. The young man surged forwards again, his emotions briefly getting the better of him. Dion fainted to the left and then sidestepped, swatting his young opponent across the back of the trousers with the flat of his blade; a move that he remembered from his own days as a young soldier would sting briefly but cause no injury – being almost more like a hard smack than anything. Jason growled, span around faster that Dion would have thought possible and lunged again

The big general was forced back a few steps, defending hard. He knew that neither one of them was truly trying to wound the other but it had to be said that this was by far the hardest training fight he had been in for years. Finally though he saw the opportunity he was looking for. As Jason came forwards, Dion sidestepped once more and, thrusting out his foot, swept the young man's feet out from under him, bringing the point of his sword to rest against the hollow of the lad's throat as he lay on his back on the ground, the air momentarily knocked out of him.

"And in a real fight you would be dead now," he said softly, reaching down with his free hand to pull Jason to his feet. He looked appraisingly at the lad. "You are good. You are _very_ good… but you could be even better."

Jason snorted.

"How?" he asked, all his frazzled emotions roiling just beneath the surface.

"Two things," Dion answered, ramming his sword back into its sheath. "Firstly you allowed your emotions to rule you. You fight with passion and that's a good thing, but you need to learn to fight with your head as well as your heart. You lost just then because you stopped thinking and started listening to your own anger and frustration." He looked away for a moment, eyes lost in thought. "Most warriors fight with either their head or their heart. If you can fight with both… then you will be great."

"You said there were two things," Jason said.

"Yes," Dion replied with a smile. "Don't _ever_ agree to spar with someone when you've been training so hard that you have utterly exhausted yourself. In fact, do not train that hard in the first place. You are faster and more agile than I am. If you had been less tired at the start you could have beaten me easily."

He looked at Jason sideways, noting the way the young man's chest still heaved with exertion, and smiled as he saw Jason nod his acceptance of Dion's assessment.

Hercules and Pythagoras, having moved to the edge of the small arena while Jason and Dion were sparring, re-joined them now.

"Are you alright?" Pythagoras asked.

"I'm fine," Jason answered.

" _You_ need food," Hercules interjected. "We all do. It's past time for the midday meal."

"No," Jason said flatly.

"Come on," Hercules entreated proffering an apple that he seemed to have conjured up from somewhere. "You must be hungry. It's a long time since breakfast."

"No thanks," Jason replied. "I'm not hungry."

He went to move away but was stopped by a firm hand resting flat against the centre of his chest. Dion held him there but did not look directly at him.

"A good warrior learns to look after _all_ his weapons," the burly general rumbled. "I would not prevent my horse from eating nor would I allow my sword to stay blunt and tarnished. Likewise, I would not starve my body of food or rest." He looked at his younger companion out of the corner of his eyes.

Jason flushed slightly; the only outward sign that he had understood what Dion was saying to him. For a long moment they stood there until Jason took the apple Hercules was still offering with an embarrassed half-smile and a nod of thanks and took a small bite.

"I must go to inspect the camp," Dion said. He looked at Jason. "I would very much like the chance to spar again at a time when we are both on better form if you would be willing."

"Of course," Jason answered.

"Very well," Dion said. "No doubt we will see each other soon."

As soon as Dion had gone, Jason found himself at the receiving end of a scrutinising look from both his friends. He sighed and made his way over to where he had left his cloak, knowing that now he was no longer expending so much energy he would cool down quickly.

"We'd better be getting back I suppose," he said, throwing the cloak around his shoulders and fastening the clasp.

"Jason," Pythagoras began.

"Not here," Jason said, flicking a glance at the soldier who maintained the training grounds and who had been watching proceedings with some interest.

Hercules followed his glance, his own eyes narrowing, and grunted his assent. As soon as they were on their way back though, taking the longer path that skirted the town so that they had less chance of meeting anyone and more chance to talk privately, he grabbed his dark haired friend by the shoulder and forced him to stop.

"Alright," he growled. "We're on our own here. Now talk."

"I guess you heard the news," Jason said without any preamble.

"Yes," Pythagoras answered. "I am presuming that that is what Ariadne wished to speak to you about."

"Mmm," Jason agreed. He huffed. "She made absolutely certain that I knew she was to marry the son of King Agrias and that there could be no future for us." He looked away from his friends quickly.

Pythagoras looked at him sympathetically.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Honestly?" Jason replied. "I don't know. I'm hurt and I'm angry… and right now it feels like someone's ripped my heart out of my chest and is stamping all over it… but I'll survive. I always do."

"Perhaps it is better to learn this now than to go on hoping indefinitely," Pythagoras ventured softly. "At least this way you can move on… get on with your life."

"Perhaps," Jason acknowledged. "The only problem is that I don't really want to move on and get on with my life. I mean I always knew that Ariadne was beyond me really. That there wasn't much chance… but that's never changed anything."

Hercules sniffed.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again… just say the word and we'll leave whenever you want. There's lots of places we could go. Pathmos is supposed to have beautiful women and he's always wanted to see Athens," he nodded at Pythagoras.

Jason attempted a smile.

"Thanks but no," he said. "I don't think my mother would be happy if we just left. Besides, I can't leave while Atlantis is still in danger… in enemy hands. We still have friends there. I couldn't abandon them… couldn't abandon the city like that. Maybe once Atlantis is safe and the Amphigeneians are gone it might be time to think of moving on then."

"You won't be able to win Ariadne's hand that way," Hercules groused. "Once Minos makes the engysis that is that."

"I'm not doing it for Ariadne," Jason answered. "She's made it perfectly clear that we will never be together… and that she has agreed to this betrothal freely. I'm doing it for Atlantis and the people."

"As long as you are living in the same house as the King you will have to see Ariadne and the man she is to marry every day," Pythagoras pointed out.

"You think I don't know that?" Jason flared briefly. "Guys I know what this is going to entail and I can handle it."

"Really?" Pythagoras asked. "Because it will not be like Ariadne's betrothal to Heptarian. There will be no contest that you can fight in to try to win her back."

"I know," Jason answered.

"And you believe that you will be able to stand aside and watch her being courted by another? Marrying another?"

"I have to," Jason said. "I have no choice." He looked at the path ahead of them. "Come on," he said. "We'd better be getting back." He looked back at Pythagoras. "I'm sorry I ran out on you this morning."

"It is alright my friend," Pythagoras replied. "I understood as soon as I learned of the Princess' betrothal."

"We're supposed to be looking at geography next aren't we?" Jason asked as they set off again.

"Yes," Pythagoras answered. "But I think that can wait for now. I am sure that under the circumstances the Queen will have other things on her mind and that we can afford to postpone until tomorrow."

"No," Jason said sharply, catching hold of Pythagoras' arm. "Once we're back I want to get on with it."

Pythagoras sighed.

"Jason I am not sure that is such a good idea," he murmured. "I hardly think your mind will be on the subject matter. I cannot help thinking that any tests I might administer will not reflect a true depiction of your current knowledge and abilities if your thoughts are focussed elsewhere."

"Please," Jason answered quietly. "I need something else to think about. If not, I'm likely to get stuck in my own stupid head again… and we all know that's not a very good idea."

Pythagoras sighed.

"Very well," he acquiesced. "If, however, I feel that carrying on today will be to your disadvantage I still reserve the right to call a halt to proceedings."

"You can talk about this after we've eaten," Hercules growled. "I for one need to eat something."

"And who are we to get in between Hercules and his meal?" Jason responded with another attempt at a smile. "The world might come to an end if you didn't get to eat on time."

Hercules smacked his friend lightly on the shoulder.

"Don't be so cheeky," he said.

Jason looked at his sideways.

"Thanks guys," he murmured, not bothering to explain what he was thanking his friends for; knowing that they would understand his meaning anyway.

"You're welcome," Hercules answered solemnly. "Come on let's go."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N Okay so here we are with Chapter 13. What I thought would be a little linking chapter seems to have turned into a bit of a behemoth and is without doubt the longest chapter in this story so far - I'm not quite sure how that happened actually.

I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you all for the reviews I have received for the story so far :-)

* * *

The temple at Pagenia was nothing like the great Temple of Poseidon in Atlantis. It was small and whilst it was clearly wealthy (the quality of the statuary showed that if nothing else) it was also somewhat cramped. The few priests who ran the place had, over the years, grown fat and lazy – fed well by their wealthy patrons in return for what actually amounted to little more than an hour or two of prayer a day and ceremonies for the town on feast days. They had been somewhat overawed by the arrival of both Melas and the Oracle and had deferred to the authority of the High Priest of Poseidon without question. Now they gathered in their small temple and offered prayers and supplications to the Gods with far more regularity than they had been used to doing – the influx of soldiers and refugees to the town had led to a sharp increase in the numbers of devotees attending the Temple to pray or to pay for the prayers of the priests and Melas had left the priests in no doubt that he expected them to see to the needs of the people.

As morning gave way to afternoon there was a lull in visitors to the temple as people returned to their homes or to the makeshift army and refugee camps that had sprung up outside the town walls – laid out with military precision by the officers under Dion's command – for their midday meal. Only the most faithful (or the most desperate, some would have said uncharitably) remained – although they were enough in number to make the small building fuller than normal. Suddenly the main door swung open, startling those inside, and two of the Atlantian guards marched in, taking up position on either side of the doorway, their presence announcing that a member of the royal family was here.

Pasiphae swept through the small building like an oncoming storm, her head held high and her dark cloak billowing out behind her. All around her people genuflected automatically, bowing with haste, their faces reflecting their surprise at the sudden arrival of the Queen. Pasiphae did not bother to acknowledge any of them. It was the duty of those who were socially inferior to her to show their respect in this manner after all. Without pausing, she marched towards the main bomos, veering around it to the small room at the back of the temple where the Oracle was now holding court.

The room itself looked little like the Oracular chamber in the Temple in Atlantis where the Seeress usually held court. Rather than being a cavern hewn out of the rocky hillside on which Atlantis was built with the vapours that the Oracle used to focus her visions billowing up through a crack in the floor, it was an ordinary room; small and square with frescoes decorating the walls and a largish window, currently covered with heavy cloth. It was probably a private chamber for the chief priest at Pagenia to retire to where he could take his ease undisturbed, Pasiphae surmised. It lacked much of the mysticism of the Oracular chamber in Atlantis and appeared almost homey.

It was with some amusement that the Queen noted that the room had been darkened as much as possible, the heavy cloth at the window blocking out all sunlight and only one tiny lamp lit in one corner, to try to make the small space seem as mystical as possible. Clearly the Oracle's flare for the dramatic had got the better of her, Pasiphae decided. Most of the furniture had been removed and the Oracle herself was kneeling on the floor, a large bronze bowl in front of her and a sacrificial knife laying off to one side. Pasiphae's sharp eyes had not missed the collecting bowl just inside the doorway; the priests of Poseidon had always grown fat and wealthy by controlling access to whoever currently held the position of Oracle and charging handsomely for the privilege of consulting her. Of course they did not attempt to charge members of the royal family – that went without saying – and Pasiphae had realised some time ago that her son had also been exempted from payment, even before his true identity had been known to anyone other than the Oracle herself.

"You have a question for me?" The Oracle's clear voice rang out, although she did not turn and her hands did not cease their movements in the water filled bowl.

"I do not have a question as such," Pasiphae answered. "I believe there are things which we must discuss Phemonoe… and I have a request to make of you."

"I have told you before that that name no longer belongs to me."

"You have indeed," Pasiphae agreed sharply, "and yet there are times when it is still appropriate… when I do not need to speak with the Oracle of Poseidon but with the person I knew when we were both young."

"Those days are long gone," the Oracle said, busying herself with her scrying bowl, "and I would not wish them back again… neither one of us is the person that we once were."

"We will never be friends," Pasiphae acknowledged. "There is too much bad blood between us for that."

"Any friendship we might once have been able to achieve was destroyed by your endless quest for power. You gave yourself to the darkness willingly."

"I had no choice. I did what was necessary."

"You have betrayed everyone close to you," the Oracle stated, shooting an acute look at the Queen. "That's why Jason's father took him from you."

"Took him and then abandoned him," Pasiphae shot back sharply. "Tell me, since you are so all knowing, if Aeson was _so_ _good_ and _so_ _virtuous_ – as _you_ would have everyone believe – why he turned his back on our son? He condemned the boy to a life of loneliness and questions without answer. You have implied in our conversations in the past that Aeson is all that is good in Jason and I am all that is bad… yet it is rarely so simple as that. I may be many things but _I_ would _never_ have treated our son in the way that Aeson did. _I_ would _never_ have abandoned him so utterly. He would have grown up knowing love."

"I cannot pretend to know Aeson's mind," the Oracle said softly. "Or to comment on his actions. Yet Jason would not be the person he is now if he had not been taken away from Atlantis. The person he is comes as much from his experiences in life as anything else. He would not be the boy you have grown to love in these past weeks."

"Perhaps."

"You no longer deny that you love him then? That he holds part of your heart?"

"He is my son. He is special."

The Oracle smiled softly.

"Then it has already begun," she answered cryptically.

"How you enjoy taunting me with your prophecies," Pasiphae spat. "Spare me your barbs and let us get down to the matter at hand."

"As you wish," the Oracle replied, with the same soft smile. "You will learn my meaning soon enough anyway." She paused for a moment then withdrew her hands from the bowl, dried them on a small cloth and stood, turning to face the Queen. "You wish to talk about Jason."

"You hardly need to be able to see the future to know that," Pasiphae answered. "We have little else in common after all."

"That was not _my_ doing," the Oracle said.

"How quick you are to apportion blame… and how you love to paint me as the villain in every respect. Tell me, you claim that Jason will destroy me… that the Gods have told you so, yet what do they say of your own fate?"

"The Gods do not permit me to see my own path," the Oracle answered, "as well you know."

Pasiphae chuckled coldly.

"And still you see yourself as untouchable," she murmured.

"You threaten _me_?" the Oracle demanded. "If you raise your hand against me you will suffer the wrath of the Gods. You will be cursed forever."

"You misunderstand me Phemonoe," Pasiphae answered softly. "I do not threaten you… I do not need to. I merely point out the deficiencies in your… _vision_. You are not all seeing and not all powerful."

"I have never pretended to be," the Oracle answered. "I am not you. I have never sought power… I understand only too well the bloodshed and suffering that such desires lead to. Such power as I have is derived from the Gods themselves."

"And how brutally you wield it," Pasiphae retorted. She turned away and sighed. "I did not come here to trade insults," she said. "Must every conversation between us turn into a battle?"

"What is it that you want, Pasiphae?" the Oracle enquired with a long-suffering sigh.

"I want many things," the Queen answered, stalking around the Oracle like a predator. "I want the Amphigeneians out of Atlantis. I want my rightful position as Queen restored. I want Atlantis to be strong… to be the great city that I know it can be."

"What is it that you want _from me_?" the Oracle clarified.

"I want my son's happiness," Pasiphae answered shortly, "and I believe you are in a position to… assist in that."

"In what way?" the Oracle demanded. "I will not be party to your machinations in your quest for power."

"I do not ask you to help me lightly," Pasiphae retorted. "I ask you because I believe that… I believe that you are the only one who _can_ help me… can help _Jason_. You told me once that everything you had done, you had done to protect him. You told me not to make the mistake of thinking that I was the only one who cared for Jason. So I am asking you – if you care for the boy at all – to help me now."

The Oracle closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she directed a clear eyed stare at the Queen.

"What would you have me do?" she asked.

"Back in the Temple – before Atlantis fell – we discussed the possibility that Jason shared your gifts," Pasiphae answered softly.

"Yes," the Oracle answered, "and I have come to believe that you were correct. On our journey from the city to Dodona Jason was showing unmistakable signs of it… but when I attempted to speak with him on the matter he backed away. He is still a little angry at me I think for keeping the knowledge of his identity from him… although all I ever really did was seek to protect him."

"I believe his abilities grow a little stronger each day," Pasiphae murmured. "Since we have been here in Pagenia… there are times when he will be talking and his words will simply stop – when he will seem to drift away inside his own head – as though he were seeing things that are not visible to anyone else. It is momentary – fleeting – and I believe that Jason is as yet unaware that I have noticed it happening. I also believe that for now I am the only person who _has_ noticed… and that is for the best I think."

"Why? What do you fear?"

"I fear that Minos would think that the boy is unstable. I cannot risk the King acting with undue haste," Pasiphae answered. "If Jason does have some level of foresight – and I firmly believe that he does – then he will need to be brought to accept it and to learn control. Once that happens I believe that Minos will come to see the advantages of the situation… but until then – until _Jason_ accepts who and what he is – I must fear the reactions of others."

"You have not spoken of this with Jason?" the Oracle asked.

"No," Pasiphae responded shortly. "I do not believe that he would react well to any introduction of the subject on my part – that he would retreat and try to deny everything." She hesitated for a moment. "There was a moment when we were in the hunting lodge when I believed that he was almost ready to speak of it himself – when I actually thought he might raise the subject – but we were interrupted and he has not attempted to speak of this since. Yet I also believe it is something that must be tackled head on… and soon. It is already beginning to affect Jason adversely. Aside from the momentary lapses, I suspect he is sleeping badly and there have been times in the last few days when I suspect he is experiencing fairly intense headaches." She paused again. "I remember all too well the fear that came when I realised that I possessed powers beyond the understanding of normal men… and the loneliness that went hand in hand with that." She looked sharply at the Oracle. "I believe you yourself will understand those fears too."

"I do," the Oracle answered. "To have power derived from the Gods… it is a lonely life."

"You told me once that there was a way that you could force Jason's abilities into the light; that you could reveal the truth of them no matter whether he himself tried to hide them. I believe that the time is rapidly approaching when you may have to do this… for Jason's sake. Otherwise I fear that his attempts to supress his own nature – which is something I think he _is_ doing, whether he is consciously aware of it or not – will only cause him suffering. I _will not_ see him made unwell or driven mad by this _blessing_ ; _this curse_."

"Perhaps you are right," the Oracle said. "I had hoped to have the opportunity to speak with Jason and to gently open his heart and mind to the realities of this gift we both believe him to possess without needing to resort to more extreme measures... But it seems that he is no longer willing to confide in me in the way he once did and you might be right in thinking that our time is now running out. To force his abilities into the open will be a risk though. I fear there is a chance that we will drive Jason even further away. I do not believe he looks favourably on me at present and if he were to think we were conspiring together…"

Pasiphae snorted.

"I hardly think that our discussions could be called 'conspiring'," she objected.

"Agreed," the Oracle replied, "and yet that is how Jason might construe them if he were to learn that we were speaking of him behind his back. I do not think he would be happy with either one of us."

"I do not think Jason is happy with anyone at present," Pasiphae responded with a sigh.

"Why not?" the Oracle asked. She searched Pasiphae's face. "What is it? What has happened?"

"You are undoubtedly aware that several of our allies have arrived to pledge their allegiance and offer their assistance in reclaiming Atlantis," Pasiphae answered. "Yet their help is not without price. King Agrias of Tanagra has never been a close friend to Atlantis and the price he has demanded is a steep one. The cost of his help is Ariadne's bride price. He has demanded that she be betrothed to his younger son and Minos has had no choice but to agree." She looked sharply at the Oracle. "You have refused to tell me of my son's future often enough… have told me to concern myself with my own fate… but tell me this now, is Ariadne's marriage to this Tanagran boy part of the future?"

The Oracle sighed.

"The images I see are fleeting and not always clear," she admitted. "I have seen great suffering and hardship… but also great joy. If it is the Gods' desire that Jason and Ariadne should marry, then there will be little anyone can do to prevent it – even Agrias of Tanagra must bow to their will."

"You cannot tell me then whether this marriage will take place?"

"Sometimes the future that I see is clear," the Oracle said a little hesitantly. "Sometimes the course of events is so fixed that there is no deviating from it… but now I see many paths before us and many different outcomes. The future is uncertain – so many things may depend on seemingly insignificant events." She grasped Pasiphae's wrist and forced the Queen to half turn. "One thing is clear though," she said urgently. "Jason is the only hope for Atlantis' future. He alone can save us from the peril that is to come… and if he should falter, if he should fall, then Atlantis will fall with him. The Gods have spoken."

"Then I must crave your help once more," Pasiphae responded. "The engysis must be made with Tanagra but neither the King nor I would wish to see the marriage take place yet. After all we have not even met this boy as of yet and for the wedding to take place so hurriedly would seem… imprudent. Minos has chosen to insist that the wedding should be postponed until Atlantis is back in our hands. It would seem only right that the heir to the throne of Atlantis should be married in the great Temple of Poseidon and not in some backwater such as this. I fear, however, that King Agrias will try to force Minos' hand and insist on the marriage taking place here before we return to Atlantis… or worse that he will insist on Ariadne being taken to Tanagra. I would ask for your support on behalf of the King… as the Oracle of Poseidon your words would carry much weight." Pasiphae's mouth was pulled into a line, as though she found her own words distasteful.

"How bitter it must be for you to be forced to acknowledge my influence," The Oracle said softly. "But I cannot lie and pretend that the Gods have spoken when they have not… even for the King." Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Still," she continued, "it would seem sensible to consult the Gods given all the recent turmoil; to seek their blessings for the marriage… and that can only be done through a blood offering. The offering must then be taken to the sacred grove at Dodona where the Gods will make their will known. To undertake such a thing from here in Pagenia… no, we must wait to consult the Gods until we are back within the walls of Atlantis and the proper offerings and sacrifices can be made. If the omens are good, the Princess must be married before the great bull statue in the Temple of Poseidon lest the Gods be made angry." Her eyes twinkled brightly.

Pasiphae let out the breath she was holding.

"We are in agreement then?" she asked.

The Oracle smiled enigmatically.

"For once I believe that we can work towards the same end," she said softly. "I will have Melas send for the assembled Kings so that they might hear my words themselves. As for the other matter, send for me when you need me. I will come and help you to guide Jason through what is to come."

Pasiphae frowned.

"I believe that Jason needs your help now," she snapped.

"No," the Oracle answered. "The time is not yet on us. There will come a time when he can no longer deny what he is experiencing. If I act prematurely we will force him away; he will try to deny everything and lash out. The timing must be perfect."

"And how am I to know when that is?" the Queen demanded. "I do not possess your gift of foresight."

The Oracle's smile widened.

"The Gods will guide your hand," she stated softly. "When the moment is right you will know."

* * *

Jason trudged back in through the door of his room and threw himself onto the bed with a sigh. With hindsight Pythagoras had probably been right: he really hadn't been in the right frame of mind to study and his performance in his friend's tests wasn't likely to be particularly good. Certainly he couldn't really remember anything he had written and had been surprised when he found all the pages Pythagoras had given him to complete had been finished – which didn't bode well for the quality of the answers, he suspected. Still, it had served the purpose of distracting him when he most needed it and somehow he thought that Pythagoras would take his lack of concentration into account and quietly lose those papers and results that would not give a true impression of what the mathematician felt Jason could actually do, re-administering the tests as necessary when Jason was in a more receptive mood.

Toeing off his shoes and allowing them to fall to the floor with a distinct thud, Jason allowed himself to sink properly back into the mattress, listening to the little pops that came from his back as he stretched out cat-like on the bed. Oh God he was tired. Perhaps training so hard and for so long this morning had not been the best idea he had ever had, although, like this afternoon's lessons, it had served the purpose of partially distracting him when he had needed it. He lifted his arm a little and sniffed at his tunic, grimacing at the smell of sweat that greeted his nostrils. In light of the hard training session a trip to the baths definitely seemed to be in order and perhaps a soak in warm water would help both to improve his mood a little and to ease his aching muscles, and to soothe his chest where the last lingering effects of the illness that had clung to him since the time in the forest still stubbornly refused to let go. He sighed again.

"You have not had a good day." Pasiphae's tone was matter of fact as though there was no room for argument in what she said.

Jason, startled, sat up suddenly at her voice. How had he failed to spot his mother sitting in a chair by the fire when he had come in? And what exactly was she doing in his room anyway?

"Do you always let yourself into other people's chambers when they're not there?" he asked grumpily.

Pasiphae raised one elegant eyebrow.

"I think you are forgetting both your manners and the fact that I am Queen," she stated flatly.

"I think Anaxandros might dispute that," Jason retorted bitterly. "With the Amphigeneians in charge in Atlantis you're not really Queen at the moment."

Pasiphae's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I am the rightful Queen of Atlantis," she said sharply, "and I have the right to go wherever I wish in this house."

"Even if that means invading someone's privacy?" Jason demanded.

"I have had little time in the last two days to speak with you," Pasiphae answered frostily. "I wished to check whether my son is well and happy. Is that so very wrong?"

Jason sighed again.

"I'm sorry. It's been a long day," he replied. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be in my room."

"It has been a difficult day," Pasiphae stated. "Ariadne spoke with you." It was not voiced as a question.

Jason snorted.

"Yes," he said.

"A little prematurely perhaps," Pasiphae sniffed. " _I_ would have waited."

"For what? _The_ _wedding_?" Jason snapped. He paused and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "That was rude and I don't mean to be. It _has_ been a long day and I'm tired… but that's no excuse really."

Pasiphae nodded gently.

"Apology accepted," she said softly. "Now come and talk to me properly," she instructed, holding out her hands. "I would like to help if I can."

"I don't see how you can," Jason muttered, pushing himself up from the bed and starting to make his way across to his mother.

He was about halfway across the room when he froze, a feeling of hot and cold sweeping through him and a rushing sound pounding through his head as a wave of pressure rocked him. His vision darkened at the edges and became hazy, all colour becoming muted and dull somehow.

 _Jason dropped to one knee and looked up in supplication, awaiting orders or judgement. Before him stood Pasiphae, dressed in a deep red dress very different from the Atlantian blue he was used to seeing her in, her hair awry and a smear of blood on one side of her face. A bloody sword was clasped loosely in her hand and her lips were drawn back in a feral smirk; her dark eyes lit with an unholy look of triumph._

" _It is finished," she sneered, raising the blade._

Jason gasped as the image faded and the real world dropped into focus again. Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes against the momentary wave of dizziness and nausea that overcame him. A stabbing pain hit behind his eyes and for a moment he wavered until a firm hand caught his elbow and guided him to sit down. Opening his eyes again he came face to face with his mother, dressed normally now and looking more concerned than triumphant. For a moment the two images of her were juxtaposed on top of one another and Jason found himself having to swallow back another wave of nausea that soured his stomach, before the one image faded away leaving only the reality around him.

Pasiphae sat back down in the seat opposite the one she had guided her son to and looked at Jason thoughtfully, her dark eyes scrutinising him. Jason shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

"Is there something you would like to tell me?" the Queen enquired, her tone clipped.

"What do you mean?" Jason hedged.

"I believe you know exactly what I mean," Pasiphae said sharply. "This is not the first time you have had that sort of _attack_."

Jason's mind froze. There was no way she could know what he had been experiencing was there? He thought he had managed to brush off any lapses he had had in public fairly well. Whilst he knew he really ought to talk to someone, and given the fact that his mother was also touched by the Gods and had admitted to having powers beyond the understanding of ordinary men to him she would seem the logical choice, he still found himself unwilling to speak; afraid of her reaction; afraid she would simply think he was mad.

"I've just got a headache," he muttered, somewhat unconvincingly, "and I stood up a bit too quickly. That's all."

"That is all is it?" Pasiphae responded sarcastically. "Simply a headache? Well perhaps I should send for a physician since this 'headache' seems to be severe enough that for a moment you looked as though you were about to pass out."

"I'm _fine_ ," Jason growled defensively, feeling an irrational little surge of anger. "I don't need to see anyone. It really is just a headache."

He wasn't actually lying either, he told himself; every time he had one of these weird moments – these daydreams or whatever the hell they were – he ended up with some kind of headache. Without really thinking about it, Jason twisted slightly in his seat and reached down to open a small box that sat alongside the chair, pulling an earthenware vial out and drinking the contents quickly.

Pasiphae raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

"Pythagoras gave it to me," Jason muttered, gesturing at the vial – unsure why he felt the need to explain himself. "It's some kind of headache remedy apparently. I didn't like to ask what was in it."

Actually, now that he thought about it, perhaps he hadn't been as subtle as he had hoped at hiding the effects of his absent moments; at hiding the headaches and weariness. After all, why else would Pythagoras have pressed several small bottles on him, telling him that they would alleviate any pain in his head and with the instruction to take them whenever it struck. His current headache spiked and Jason could not suppress a small wince, hand coming up automatically and rubbing his temple gently.

Pasiphae's frown deepened.

"You are frequently troubled by headaches?" she asked.

"No," Jason answered. "Not really."

"And yet your friend felt it necessary to supply you with a remedy," Pasiphae pointed out. "I hardly think he would have done that if he did not expect you to require it."

Jason rubbed his forehead again and huffed out an un-amused breath.

"Pythagoras worries too much," he murmured. "It's in his nature. If there was nothing at all to worry about, he'd worry about not being worried. I once told him that before I came to Atlantis I used to get the occasional bad migraine – it's a really intense, painful type of headache. More often than not I'd end up in bed, throwing up because of it and about all I could really do was lie down somewhere dark and quiet until it passed – and it could last for a couple of days if I was _really_ unlucky... That's a bit of a simplification of what happened but I'm guessing you get the drift."

Pasiphae's eyes narrowed.

"Your father's mother was susceptible to similar attacks," she said shortly.

"Mmm," Jason replied. "I know. I've been told. Anyway I haven't had anything like that in over a year now – not since before I arrived in Atlantis – but I have had a few relatively mild headaches lately… it tends to happen when I'm tense. Pythagoras worries, like I said, and likes to be prepared for anything… hence the tonics he made me keep – just in case, you know?"

Pasiphae looked at her son thoughtfully for a moment, wondering if this gave her an opportunity to broach the subject of Jason's suspected abilities.

"Indeed," she murmured. She hesitated for a moment, deciding what she wanted to say. "And what happened just now was _just_ the effects of a headache?" she probed.

"Of course," Jason answered, his tone becoming defensive once more. "What did you think it was?"

"When I was a girl," Pasiphae began, before trailing off for a moment. "My childhood was… relatively normal – at least for a Princess of Colchis. I grew up with my brothers and sisters in the Palace at Apsaros. As children of the King we perhaps had a little less freedom than a peasant child would and were expected to behave in a certain way, but what we lacked in freedom was more than made up for by the many advantages of our position."

Jason blinked at the apparent non-sequitur and frowned slightly. Why was his mother telling him this?

"Growing up I was always aware that there were those around me who practiced what the uneducated would call witchcraft; that there were women of great power in Colchis. And yet it was not something that I was truly aware of within my own family – at least not at first," the Queen went on. "My eldest sister showed signs early on of having the favour of the Gods – of being a seer – but it was not Colchian magic. She was taken to be a priestess when I was still quite young. It was never hidden from me that I was touched by the Gods and yet I did not understand what that meant until my own powers began to manifest. It was a difficult time. My father was already ailing; had already developed the lingering illness that would kill him in the end. Between caring for him and trying to prepare my younger brother Aeetes for the throne – a role he would have to take on when he was still really a child and far too young for the responsibility – my mother and all the other members of the court and my immediate family who might have helped me or explained matters to me were far too busy. I was very afraid and very alone… but I came to learn that those who share this sort of ability are drawn to one another; share a bond that goes beyond what ordinary men can understand. That I was not alone."

"Why are you telling me this?" Jason asked softly.

"Because I wish you to understand that you come from a very powerful bloodline," Pasiphae answered. "From a family where more than one member is blessed with… unusual abilities. And I wish you to understand that those abilities are nothing to be ashamed of or afraid of."

"Alright," Jason answered slowly.

"So is there anything you wish to tell me?" Pasiphae asked again.

"I don't think so," Jason replied, his expression becoming increasingly guarded.

Pasiphae had to stop herself from sighing out loud. It appeared that Jason was still not ready to open up to her and the thought that he still did not fully trust her caused her a little stab of sorrow and pain.

"Very well," she said briskly. "How are your studies going?"

Jason looked down at the floor and shrugged, forgetting for a moment how much his mother disliked the gesture.

"Fine… I think," he answered. "Pythagoras said there are a couple more subjects he wants to test me on before we begin anything properly."

"Then I will expect his report in due course so that a proper schedule of study might be drawn up for you," Pasiphae retorted. "I wish to ensure that your lessons give due attention to the most important subjects." She paused and raised an eyebrow. "You are not displeased with the tutor I have provided I hope." Her tone was still clipped.

Jason flushed slightly, still not fully meeting her eyes.

"No," he said quietly. "It was kind of you. Thank you."

A delicate hand caught his chin and tilted his face up.

"My expectations of you are high," Pasiphae said, her tone noticeably softer than it had been just a few moments before, "but I do not wish you to be unhappy Jason."

Jason returned her gaze steadily now.

"I know," he admitted. "You and the King… you've both gone out of your way to make me feel comfortable from the moment I got to the Palace."

"You are my son," Pasiphae answered simply. "But come, this is not the conversation I intended us to be having."

"And what did you intend?" Jason asked, a faint note of suspicion colouring his tone.

"I believe that Ariadne explained the realities of our situation to you," Pasiphae replied.

Jason felt the pit open up in his stomach again; the sinking feeling that grew with every passing moment.

"She told me that she was to be married," he admitted tonelessly. It felt like a hard knot was forming in his chest, making him ache inside.

"She is to be betrothed, yes," Pasiphae said. "Ariadne understands that this is her duty both to her father and to Atlantis."

"How can the King ask this of her?" Jason couldn't help asking, anger bubbling below the surface. "To be married to a man she hasn't even met? It isn't right."

"Perhaps not but it is all too common," Pasiphae answered. "Ariadne is a princess and her marriage must be advantageous."

Jason snorted.

"And she gets no say in it?" he demanded.

"Ariadne agreed of her own free will," Pasiphae reminded him sharply. "She is not being forced into this."

"Being told that her father has agreed to it and that it will be for the best. What sort of choice is that?" Jason fought to rein his temper in. "Where I come from people are free to marry who they want."

Pasiphae raised an eyebrow.

"I thought we had agreed that you are no longer where you came from," she stated. "You are in Hellas and must abide by our laws and customs. And if you think that this situation is in any way what any of us desired then you are very much mistaken. Minos does not wish to see Ariadne married to the younger son of King Agrias."

"So why does he ask it of her then?" Jason demanded sharply.

"Because he has no choice you foolish boy!" Pasiphae snapped back. "Agrias has set Ariadne's hand as the price of his help and Minos cannot afford to offend him by saying no. Not only does he have by far and away the most troops with him out of any of the allied kings but should Minos refuse it will discourage our other allies from coming to our aid. Ariadne is the heir to the throne. She will be the guardian of Atlantis after her father. Her marriage must be about more than love. Whether you like it or not that is the simple reality of the situation."

"I understand," Jason stated bitterly.

"No you do not," Pasiphae retorted. "These are difficult times and we are all being forced to make choices that we would not want to. To refuse King Agrias' demands would place every plan for the future in jeopardy. This is a battle that we cannot win." She paused and levelled a sharp-eyed look at her son. "The war is not over yet Jason," she said cryptically. "It is barely even begun."

"What do you mean?"

"Simply that it is a long journey from engysis to a marriage – just as it is a long journey from Pagenia to Atlantis – and many things may happen along the way that we are not expecting."

Jason narrowed his eyes.

"What are you planning?" he asked suspiciously.

Pasiphae looked at him thoughtfully. Should she tell Jason that she was actively seeking a way to prevent Ariadne's marriage to this Tanagran prince? She had no doubt now that the boy was perfectly capable of keeping secrets – had learned over the past couple of days how good he was at masking his emotions – but would he be able to remain completely cool and rational where matters of his own heart were concerned? Knowing the little that she did about her son's sometimes emotional nature, Pasiphae doubted it.

It wasn't as if she had any sort of definite plan yet either. No, perhaps it was better not to give Jason what might amount to potentially false hope; perhaps it was better to keep her own counsel for the moment. After all she did not want any hint of what she was planning getting back to Minos. Not that she thought he would necessarily disapprove – after all he had played the game of politics for many years now – but if he knew that she was planning to break the engysis it might put him in a difficult position and he could not afford to be seen to act in anything less than good faith.

"I have no plans at this time," she answered. "But Ariadne has been betrothed before without it leading to marriage. The Gods may not look any more favourably on this match than they did on that one. Perhaps you should remember that."

"That was different," Jason mumbled a protest. "Ariadne didn't want to be betrothed then."

"And she does not _want_ to be betrothed now," Pasiphae answered sharply. "She at least understands, however, that it is a political necessity at this time. Ariadne is of more than marriageable age – many girls would have been married for some years already – but Minos, for good reasons, would not part with her cheaply. Sooner or later a betrothal was inevitable, however. It would have been better if it had been to a man from within Atlantis or from within _my_ family, but right now that is not a possibility. We must play this game with the dice we have been given and for now that means Ariadne must be promised to the son of the Tanagran King." She reached out and covered her son's hand with her own. "I know this is hard for you Jason. I know how you feel about Ariadne and I understand how bitter this must be… but you must remember that you were never given leave to court her. Minos intended you to see one another as brother and sister – at least until he decided otherwise – and that is what you _must_ do."

"I've never been very good at giving up," Jason muttered.

"But for now you must," Pasiphae retorted. She sighed. "For the good of Atlantis you need to stand aside and let this engysis happen… because it _will_ happen whether you like it or not."

"I know," Jason answered steadily.

"Good," Pasiphae said. "But remember that just because two people may become betrothed, it does not necessarily mean they will get married at the end of it. The future is more uncertain than ever at this time. We are at war and men die in the heat of battle. When we are back in our rightful places, the blessing of the Gods must be sought for the match and they may withhold their favour. In any case the heir to the throne must be married in the Temple of Poseidon in front of the court, so no marriage can take place until then at the very least. We have a long way to go to get to that point and many things may happen… and we must each play our parts to remove the Amphigeneians from our city."

"I will do my duty to Atlantis," Jason replied. "I already told Ariadne that we can be united in that if nothing else."

Pasiphae nodded her acknowledgement.

"Very well," she said softly. She hesitated. "There is to be a feast tonight to celebrate the making of the match," she told Jason. "King Agrias would expect no less. Under the circumstances I will not expect you to attend. Spend the evening with your friends if you will."

Jason looked at her seriously.

"Will King Laius be there?" he asked.

"Yes," Pasiphae answered. "Minos will be joined by Agrias of Tanagra, Laius of Thebes and Attalos of Pergamon. At present they are the only allies who have arrived here, although Mithridates and others are expected in the days to come. Why do you ask?"

"The other night when I was introduced to King Laius, the King introduced me as a member of the family and his champion." He hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "If I'm not there tonight won't it look a bit odd?"

Pasiphae smiled faintly.

"I am sure Laius will have more important things to think about," she answered. "Minos made it clear to him that he wished you to be introduced to cultured society gradually. I would imagine that Laius would assume that Minos had decided not to subject you to the next step until you were comfortable with the last one. And if he were to wonder where you are it can be explained away simply as you being a little unwell. After all he witnessed the fact that you are not fully well for himself the other night." The Queen levelled a sharp look at her son.

"It's just a cough," Jason protested. "I'm fine really." He paused and bit his lip, only to release it from between his teeth when he saw his mother's eyes harden. "You said we all need to play our parts to take back Atlantis… and I think this is mine. I don't necessarily _want_ to come to this feast tonight but I think it's my duty to."

"Perhaps you are right," Pasiphae said. "But it will not be as easy as you seem to think. Do you really believe that you can sit and watch King Minos giving thanks to the Gods for Ariadne's betrothal? Watch King Agrias gloating? And never allow your feelings on the subject to show? Because you _would_ have to hide how you feel."

A slightly bitter smile touched Jason's lips.

"I'm going to have to do that sooner or later anyway aren't I?" he asked. "Better to start as I have to go on. Besides, I've spent most of my life hiding how I really feel from the rest of the world. This will be no different."

He wasn't quite sure what prompted him to tell his mother that. After all it was something that he would never of imagined admitting to her when he had first gone to stay in the Palace.

"Indeed?" Pasiphae murmured. "You admit that you are not as open as you pretend to be then."

"None of us are who we pretend to be for the rest of the world," Jason answered. "We all hide behind masks; behind façades that stop people from seeing when we're in pain. It's how we protect ourselves. I'm no different to anyone else really."

For a moment Pasiphae found herself at a loss for words; a rare occurrence in her life. To hear such world-weary bitterness coming from her apparently sunny natured son was disconcerting.

 _He is not as innocent as you believed,_ part of her said.

 _I never believed he was completely innocent_ , the other part responded. _There is no way he could have survived alone this far in life if he was… but I still believe that his heart is open and kind; that he still has some innocence about him._

"I've shocked you," Jason said quietly.

"No," Pasiphae answered. "I am not shocked. Although I will admit that I am a little surprised. I had not thought to ever hear you speak so cynically."

Jason snorted.

"No-one can be an optimist all the time," he replied. Then he sighed. "You've caught me at a bad time," he admitted. "I'm angry and I'm hurt and that's never a good combination for anyone. It'll pass soon enough though… and no doubt I'll get my positive outlook back as soon as it does."

Pasiphae looked at him through narrowed eyes. He was being sincere, she quickly realised. Looking down at the hand that still covered Jason's she squeezed it, gently rubbing her thumb across the back of his knuckles.

"I wish that I could make this easier on you," she said softly. "I know how hard it must be both for you and for Ariadne."

Jason snorted again.

"You've never really cared about Ariadne," he retorted sharply.

"You misjudge me," Pasiphae replied. "Ariadne and I may not be friends but we were not always bitter enemies either. Once upon a time I tried hard to be a mother to her but she rejected me at every turn." She sighed. "No. We are not friends… and yet I have been where she is now – promised in marriage to a man that she has not met. I would spare her that fate if I can."

"You _are_ planning something then?" Jason demanded, his eyes narrowing.

"I have no plans," Pasiphae answered. "I will delay the marriage for as long as I can but the engysis will not easily be broken without dishonour coming on Minos – something that we could ill afford at a time when we are seeking allies. That is for the future, however. Now we must deal with the present." She paused and regarded her son seriously. "Perhaps you are right that your absence would be missed from this evening's gathering. If not Laius, then certainly that overly clever advisor of his would realise that you were not there. Very well. If you feel that you can behave appropriately and not make a scene I will not prevent you from attending. It might be for the best for you to meet King Agrias and King Attalos in a social setting anyway. After all, you will be expected to deal with them in a political setting soon enough."

"What do you mean?"

"Now that the immediate negotiations for aid from the allied kings who are here have been completed, Minos wishes to get on with the business of planning the reclamation of Atlantis," Pasiphae stated. "There will be further negotiations as more of our allies join us here but for now that stage is complete. Minos was impressed with the ideas you came up with that brought us to Pagenia and set us on this road. He has instructed me to inform you that your presence will be required at some of the strategy sessions he will be having over the next few days. It will not be every meeting, of course; there will be those where the gathered kings will wish to be alone. As such it should not take up too much time and should not interfere significantly with the lessons you will be having with your friend. I trust this will be acceptable?"

Jason blinked in surprise and cast a slightly startled look at his mother. Pasiphae supressed the urge to smile broadly – the expression made the boy look remarkably young.

"What exactly would the King want me to do?" Jason asked. "I'm not refusing to go," he added hurriedly, hoping that his mother didn't think he was and take offence. "If the King really wants me there then of course I'll be there… it's just I'm not sure how much use I'll be."

"All that will be required is for you to attend the meetings as requested and support the King," Pasiphae answered briskly. "If the King asks for your opinion then give it. Other than that, listen to what goes on and learn from it." She looked affectionately at her son. "I know you will make me proud," she said.

With a soft smile, the Queen lifted her hand from where it was covering Jason's and brushed the back of her knuckles lightly down the side of his face.

"There are still several hours until tonight's gathering," she remarked. "Use them to rest and try to rid yourself of the headache that you said you have. I will arrange for the servants to bring water for you to wash and refresh yourself," she added, taking in Jason's somewhat dishevelled appearance with a disapproving glance.

Jason flushed.

"I was training at the practice grounds earlier," he explained, "and I haven't had time to change since. Actually I was thinking of heading to the baths."

"Very well," Pasiphae answered. "Make sure that you do." She tempered her disapproval with a faint smile. "I have lingered too long," she said. "Much as I would like to remain in your company my own duties are calling. I must go and check on the preparations for the feast. If I left Alexarchos to his own devices he would undoubtedly arrange to serve the eel with quails' eggs and pine nuts, which is a combination that Minos finds abhorrent, rather than with feta and almonds, which he particularly likes. Everything must be perfect." She rose gracefully from her seat. "I will see you tonight," she added, placing a warm hand on Jason's shoulder.

Then with one last warm smile at her son, she swept from the room.

* * *

Jason starred unseeingly out of the window he was standing at, mind wandering down convoluted and dark pathways. Soon enough the room behind him would be full, the allied kings coming to hash out the strategies they were considering for retaking Atlantis, but for now he was blessedly alone for once. He sighed. What exactly was he doing here? No-one (besides Minos and possibly Dion) actually wanted him here; his presence was largely ignored. The other kings were bemused by his presence at best and contemptuous at worst. Laius was pleasant enough, talking to Jason in a relatively open and friendly manner (and Jason had _never_ thought he'd be grateful to speak to _Laius_ of all people), but of the other kings Attalos and Mithridates (arrived in the last two days) were polite enough but largely ignored his presence and Agrias was openly contemptuous, clearly unable to believe that Minos had named a champion who in the Tanagran King's opinion was little more than a boy and plainly unable to fulfil his role properly.

Jason sighed softly again. The dinner at which he had had his first encounter with both Agrias and Attalos was three days ago now. It had been damned painful (more painful than he would ever openly admit) to sit there and hear everyone offering thanks to the Gods for Ariadne's betrothal; to look at the beautiful girl down the length of the table and to realise that she would not even meet his eyes; to witness both King Agrias' gloating and the hearty congratulations that were offered to both the Tanagran monarch and King Minos. Yet he had managed to conceal his own feelings on the whole; had not caused a scene. Not that it was really in Jason's nature to cause a scene out of choice – no matter what his mother might fear to the contrary. Before Atlantis he had always chosen to fade discreetly into the background wherever possible. It was only since he had arrived here that his own sometimes dreadful luck had thrust him into the limelight as it were – although he did have to admit that his own lack of understanding of the laws and culture had definitely not helped.

He had anticipated that things with Ariadne would be difficult but he hadn't really realised just how difficult they would be. As things were it had become painfully clear that the Princess was avoiding him as much as possible. If Jason entered a room then Ariadne left it as quickly as she could and if they were forced to remain in one another's company she would talk to just about anyone else in the room other than him. Mealtimes had become particularly difficult with Ariadne deliberately arranging to see to her duties at the temple at that time if she knew Jason was going to be there. For his part Jason had taken to skipping as many meals with his mother and the King as he dared; hating to think that he might in any way be usurping Ariadne's position at the table.

One thing was becoming increasingly clear, Jason thought bitterly – that they could not go on like this. Living under the same roof was proving to be impossibly painful for them both. He grimaced to himself. Why, oh why had he not gone with his first instincts and run as far and as fast as he could away from Pagenia when Ariadne had first informed him of her forthcoming engagement? Hercules had openly said that he and Pythagoras were willing to leave if that was what Jason wanted. Perhaps he should take his friends up on the offer now? He huffed an almost silent, humourless laugh. No. What he'd said the other day was true – there really was no way he could bring himself to leave while Atlantis was still in the hands of an enemy; while the few friends he had who were still in the city were potentially in danger. To know that he had walked away and not done everything he could to save those he cared for was unthinkable.

A noise from the corridor outside alerted Jason to the fact that someone was approaching. He grimaced again before straightening his shoulders and turning towards the table in the centre of the room. His time alone was over it seemed. It never seemed to last for long these days and Jason found himself cherishing every private moment that he got – and often wishing for the simpler times he had shared with his friends before he had learned who his parents were.

Minos entered the room alone, although Jason knew that the other kings and their chief advisors would not be far behind and that Dion was also expected to join the meeting as well. The Atlantian King seemed deep in thought; his brow furrowed unhappily. The cares of his position seemed to hang heavily on his shoulders today.

"Is everything alright, My Lord?" Jason asked softly.

Minos started.

"Jason," he greeted his stepson. "I had not expected anyone to arrive before me."

Jason flushed, unsure whether he had broken some obscure element of protocol by being in the room before the King arrived.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't want to be late."

Minos regarded the young man seriously. He had had little time over the last few days to speak with Jason alone and it seemed unlikely that that situation would change in the days to come. The truth was that he knew his stepson was ill at ease in these strategy meetings but Minos firmly believed that Jason might have ideas that would prove important; that he might see things that the more formally trained monarchs and their advisors would overlook. After all it had been Jason's idea which had brought them to Pagenia and gathered the troops from the garrisons, and it had been Jason's idea to send word to their allies to gather help.

"You have done nothing wrong," he asserted. "I was simply deep in thought and failed to notice you before you spoke." His frown deepened again.

"Is there something wrong Your Majesty?" Jason asked.

"I have received news which is disquieting," Minos affirmed, "but such things can wait until our allies join us here. That way I will not have to repeat myself."

They lapsed into silence. The King seemed too distracted to talk properly and Jason did not know what to say. Fortunately, it was not too long until they were joined by the others and soon the room was filled with chattering – although Minos did not really join in, brooding quietly at the head of the table. Jason allowed himself to slip into the background once more, content to listen and observe. He couldn't help but notice the worried frown on Dion's face when he entered and began to quietly worry about what the disquieting news Minos had received might be.

The only person they were waiting for by this point was King Agrias. Even his chief advisor was present but the Tanagran monarch was yet to put in an appearance. Jason had noticed over the last three days, however, that Agrias liked to arrive after everyone else; to make a grand entrance when he was sure that he would receive the most attention. Finally, Agrias swept into the room, smirking openly at the assembly.

"I have news, My Lords," he said. "Good news. I have received word from my son. He is little more than a days ride from here and should be with us late tomorrow. As soon as he has arrived and has been introduced, the engysis can be made formally."

If he had expected or hoped that Minos would react to his statement, he was disappointed. Agrias frowned.

"Did you hear what I said, My Lord?" he enquired of the Atlantian monarch, with a frown.

"Forgive me," Minos answered. "I have received disturbing news this morning and I am uncertain as to the correct course of action."

"Might we know the contents of this news?" Mithridates of Pontus asked.

He was the oldest of the kings present in the room. A large man with grey hair and a solemn air about him. He was unfailingly polite to everyone, however, and his remarks were generally sensible and to the point; displaying intelligence tempered with common sense. The other monarchs seemed to afford him a great deal of respect. Jason had decided shortly after meeting the man that he liked him.

Minos sighed.

"I have received word from our scouts," he answered. "They have been sent out periodically by General Dion so that we might know when Anaxandros made any moves."

"And what news have these scouts delivered?" Laius queried.

"It seems that Anaxandros is confident enough in his position that he has begun to send out his troops to subdue the rest of the kingdom," Minos replied. "The town of Athanos is under attack."

"You must have known this was coming," Mithridates said.

"I did," Minos confirmed. "Although I will admit that I had hoped we would have a little more time before the Amphigeneians made their move. It is more the location of this first attack which disturbs me."

"Athanos is close to Pagenia?" asked the chief advisor to Attalos of Pergamon; a man whose name Jason had so far failed to catch.

"No," Minos admitted. "Quite the opposite in fact. Athanos is at least five days hard ride from here, and for an army moving slowly? No, we do not need to fear that the Amphigeneians will stumble across us here. Pagenia was chosen because it is such a small and out of the way town. I suspect it will be one of the last that the Amphigeneians bother with." He paused and gathered his thoughts. "I had hoped that Athanos would not be the first town attacked," he said. "A vain hope as it is the next largest town after the city of Atlantis itself. It is the home of one of my greatest friends and advisors."

Minos gestured to a waiting servant to bring him a cup of wine and took a long sip.

"Herodion has been my friend from childhood," he went on. "As boys we would challenge each other to remain in the bull pen for as long as possible and the first one to jump out would pay a forfeit. He supported me through everything. When I took the throne he became my most trusted advisor; unswervingly loyal. Many years ago now Herodion's wife became dangerously ill. She was with child and the doctors feared for both her life and the life of the child. They advised my friend to take her away from the city; to take her to quieter surroundings so that she might recover. Herodion took them at their word and took his wife to Athanos. For many months her life hung in the balance – even after the babe was born. When it was all over I tried to persuade Herodion to return to Atlantis – told him how much I needed his guidance – but he would not be swayed. He had settled in Athanos and nothing could entice him to return to the city. Over the years we have remained in regular correspondence and I have come to value his advice more than that of any other. Due to the secrecy surrounding our residence here in Pagenia I had as yet been unable to inform Herodion of the current situation… and yet I had hoped that there would be time enough both to warn him and to request his presence in Pagenia. I believed that with the threat of attack from the Amphigeneians, he might finally leave the town he has come to call home. I would still wish to rescue him and his family if I could because his advice is invaluable to me… but I cannot see a way that this might be achieved."

"How long will Athanos hold out?" Mithridates asked.

"No more than a week. Two at the most," Dion rumbled. "Although the town walls are strong, it doesn't have the formidable defences of Atlantis itself."

"And yet Atlantis fell," Agrias pointed out snidely.

"Through treachery I believe," Minos answered, shooting a hard look at the Tanagran King. "The Amphigeneians came through the sewage tunnels beneath the city and _must_ have been shown the way."

"Where exactly is Athanos?" Mithridates queried.

At another gesture from Minos a pair of servants brought a large rolled map forwards and carefully unfurled it on the table, weighting down the corners to prevent it from rolling back up. Jason found himself peering at it, trying to identify both the places he knew and the place Minos was speaking of. Mithridates stood and leaned across the table, carefully measuring off distances, his brow furrowed as he carefully considered both the map and the issue Minos had laid out. Finally, he stepped back.

"It could be done," he said, "but not without alerting Anaxandros to the scale of your remaining forces. If we were to go to the defence of Athanos I cannot see how we could prevent Anaxandros from learning of the massed might of our armies."

"And that is the problem," Minos replied. "We are not yet ready for a pitched battle… and I wished to keep our presence a secret for as long as possible. If we are to retake Atlantis itself, we cannot afford to give the Amphigeneians too much warning." He sighed. "No," he added. "Galling as it may be I cannot put the safety of one man above the needs of my kingdom… even if the loss of that man will be a great blow to me. We cannot commit our forces to this."

Jason looked at the map again, frowning deeply. He could see a solution but he wasn't sure Minos would like it.

"My Lord," he said quietly before he could persuade himself not to speak. "May I say something?"

"Of course," Minos answered over Agrias' barely concealed derisive snort. "You have thoughts on this?"

"You can't send an army," Jason said softly, eyes never leaving the map and ignoring King Agrias' mutterings about him stating the obvious. "But what about one or two men? A small group would be less likely to draw the attention of the Amphigeneians. In the chaos of battle, they could slip through and rescue Lord Herodion and his family from the town."

"The plan has merit," Mithridates murmured. "Where many might fail a small group of no more than three or four men might succeed – particularly if they knew in advance which house belonged to this Lord Herodion. It should be easier for them to sneak in past both attackers and defenders alike."

"And who exactly do you think will undertake this mission?" Minos asked, giving his stepson a hard look; fearing that he knew only too well who Jason was about to suggest.

"I'll go," Jason answered, holding the King's eyes.

"Out of the question," Minos growled.

"I believed that the boy was your champion," Agrias said with a sneer. "And yet you do not even seem to trust him to undertake this, the simplest of missions."

"I hardly think it will be so simple," Minos argued, still glaring at Jason. "Besides, Jason is a kinsman as well as my champion."

"All the more reason that he should be chosen then My Lord," Agrias stated. "If you are unwilling to take a risk and to allow your kinsman to play his part in this war, then why should any of us risk our armies to help you? Many of us have young men with us who are kinsmen. Why should this _boy_ be kept safe when you are asking us to risk their lives?" The word 'boy' was laced with contempt. "I believe that there are none of us here who do not understand the importance of good counsel. If this advisor is as invaluable to you as my own chief advisor is to me, then surely this will be a risk worth taking?"

"There is one other consideration, Your Majesty," Dion rumbled quietly. "When the city fell, Jason managed to save both the Princess and the Oracle; getting them out of the city under the very noses of the Amphigeneian soldiers who were searching for them. As this is a similar task it would seem that he is suited to it."

Minos nearly growled. Deep down he knew that both Dion and Mithridates were right; even Agrias was right in his own way. Yet it was not a decision that Minos would take willingly – not least because he suspected he would have to face the wrath of his wife for risking her son's life; Pasiphae was vicious when something she cared about was threatened and Minos was under no illusions that she cared deeply about Jason. How could he refuse though? Agrias had made sure that if he did not agree to Jason going on this mission the other kings would be likely to think twice about lending him their aid. For political reasons he had to agree, but that did not mean he had to damn well like it.

"Very well," he answered shortly. "You will arrange for two or three of your best men to accompany him," he added with a look towards Dion.

"No," Jason objected.

He flushed as Minos turned angry eyes on him.

"I beg your pardon?" Minos asked his voice and eyes as hard as winter. "You dare to defy me?"

"No My Lord," Jason answered quickly, his voice low and apologetic. "I meant no insolence. It's just… I work best when I'm with my friends. We're a team and I've got used to us fighting together as a group. We know each other's moves. It'll be easier to get into Athanos and back out again with them than with strangers."

Minos' eyes softened.

"I understand," he murmured. "But your friends are not trained warriors."

"They're as trained as I am Your Majesty," Jason pointed out quietly. "Hercules is a fighter and Pythagoras is so clever that I wouldn't even want to consider going in without him. Besides… even if you send me off with other soldiers they'll still come along. We protect one another."

Minos raised an eyebrow and glanced at Dion. The burly general returned his look with a grave nod.

"I witnessed them fighting alongside one another in the streets of Atlantis," he said seriously. "I believe they will be suited for this task."

Jason felt relief wash over him at Dion's support.

Minos steepled his hands, resting his elbows on the table and his index fingers against his lips.

"Very well," he murmured. "You will remain behind after the conclusion of this council so that we might make plans for your departure to Athanos," he said to Jason. Then he looked around the rest of the table. "And now My Lords we must turn our attention to our strategy in the coming days and weeks."


	14. Chapter 14

A/N Well here, for what it's worth, is Chapter 14 (finally!). Thank you all for the lovely reviews for Chapter 13. I'm encouraged by the fact that there are still people reading!

For my guest reviewer - that's an interesting question and one that I have given some thought to. I don't actually think there's all that much difference in Jason and Pythagoras' ages to be honest. They seem very close in age. I know that within the fandom most writers seem to think that Pythagoras is definitely younger but I'm actually going to go against the grain here and say that I tend to think that of the two Jason is probably the youngest (at least in _my_ head). I can't explain _why_ I think that but there's just something in his manner that seems younger than Pythagoras... but, as I say, I don't think the age difference is all that much anyway.

Anyway, on with the chapter. It's a bit of a bitty chapter and went in a different direction from what I had intended but I hope you still enjoy it. Please let me know what you think :-)

* * *

Jason looked thoughtfully at the satchel he was packing. He would need to travel light and only take the things that would be useful for this journey. It had never been an issue in the past – never been something he had really had to think about since his arrival in Atlantis – since he had only had two tunics and very little else in the way of possessions. Now though his mother seemed intent on making sure that he had more than he would ever need of anything, so packing for a journey required a little more thought – especially since some of the clothes she had ordered the dressmakers in Pagenia to make might be suitable for a royal feast but would definitely not help him to be unobtrusive on the road.

He grimaced. In all actuality he was still far more comfortable in his own clothes – in the clothes he had worn since his arrival in Atlantis or the winter tunic Meriones had provided – than he was in anything more expensive. Felt a bit of a fraud in anything else – although he knew that nothing he had was anywhere near as elaborate as the costumes worn by royalty (either the Atlantian royals or those who were visiting) or even the highly ranking courtiers he has seen in the Palace in Atlantis.

Jason smiled. Despite her outwardly prickly demeanour and disapproval of his somewhat more casual attitude to life, Pasiphae showed her concern – her love he supposed – in little gestures. Ordering clothes that would be more to his tastes than the current fashion with the nobility was just one example of that.

"What in the name of the Gods do you think you are doing?"

Jason stiffened. Pasiphae's voice was brittle and as cold as ice. He had been anticipating this encounter ever since he had left Minos a little while ago, and was expecting to face his mother's displeasure. As inoffensively as he could, he turned to face her, hands turned palm outwards at his sides in a placating gesture and expression as mild as he could make it, sternly telling himself to keep a grip on his own temper no matter what his mother said. It would do neither of them any good to get into an argument now or to part on bad terms.

"Packing for the journey to Athanos," he answered calmly. "Which I'm sure you already know about."

"Indeed," Pasiphae hissed from between clenched teeth. "I have spoken at length with the King and he has _informed me_ of your little _mission_."

Jason couldn't help wincing. Somehow he didn't envy Minos the conversation he must have had with Pasiphae.

"Then you know that King Agrias insisted that I go," he said as inoffensively as he could. "The King really didn't have a choice. Agrias made sure that Atlantis' allies would think twice about helping if I don't go."

"So I understand," Pasiphae snapped. "I am also led to believe, however, that the initial suggestion came from you yourself."

"It seemed the logical solution," Jason protested quietly, "and it's something I can do to help."

"The 'logical solution' would be to not have suggested this foolhardy mission in the first place," Pasiphae retorted. "Or to have suggested that Dion sent some of his men. They at least are expendable."

"No-one is expendable," Jason answered sharply. He took a deep breath and reined himself in before his own temper could come into play. "I know you may not agree but I really think we're the best people for this job. Soldiers – trained soldiers that is – tend to look like soldiers even when they're not in uniform… and I think any men Dion sent would try to follow their orders to the letter even if the situation had changed. We might not have done this precise sort of thing before but the jobs I've done with Hercules and Pythagoras mean that I'm more used to this sort of mission that any of Dion's men. The three of us are more likely to blend in than soldiers would be and we're used to having to think on our feet… to the situation changing and having to adapt to it. I promise we won't take any unnecessary risks."

It was a promise that he had already given to Minos. The conversation he had had with the King after the end of the strategy meeting had largely involved Minos informing Jason of just how unhappy he was with the idea of his stepson going on this mission and just how much he disliked being backed into a corner and forced to agree. He had made some _interesting_ points and had definitely been irate at the turn of events; had felt that Jason should have raised his suggestion in private after the meeting (where it could have been rejected without further discussion, Jason suspected) and not in front of the other kings where Minos had been given no choice but to acquiesce.

"Did you think for one moment I am happy with sending a member of _my_ family into danger?" Minos' tone had been scathing. "Or that I _enjoy_ being forced to agree to Agrias' ultimatums? Agrias is taking every opportunity to force my hand so that I will have to agree to his more outrageous demands and _you_ hand him _this_ on a platter."

"I'm sorry," Jason had answered softly. "I was just trying to help."

He hadn't really even thought of the other kings' reactions when he had made the suggestion and certainly hadn't intended to put Minos in a difficult position. Part of his mind still reeled at the fact that the King of Atlantis had openly stated that he thought of _him_ as a member of the family.

"I understand that you believed you were helping – however misguided that belief might have been… but next time I would take it as a kindness if you would keep any suggestions to yourself that might impact on your own wellbeing until we are alone and can discuss the matter without outside interference," Minos had tempered his tone slightly but was clearly still angry. "I dread to think what your mother's response to this might be when I inform her."

Jason had shuddered, suddenly very aware that Pasiphae's reaction might not be pleasant.

"I'm sorry," he had muttered again.

Minos had sighed.

"What is done is done," he had replied, "and we will have to make the best of it now. In all fairness the suggestion is a good one but there was no necessity for you to volunteer yourself. I believed I had made it clear to you that risking your life unnecessarily is something that I will not tolerate or allow."

Jason had looked at him steadily.

"I don't think it will be that much of a risk," he had argued softly. "I need to be doing something to help… I'm not good at sitting around and doing nothing – and I don't think diplomacy will ever be my strong point. This is something _useful_ that I can do, and my friends and I… I really think we're the best people for this. We can blend in with the general populous where soldiers would be likely to stand out. I can't explain it but for once in my life I'm absolutely certain of the path I must take… and I promise I won't take any risks that aren't absolutely necessary."

The King's eyes had narrowed as he had regarded his stepson seriously, judging Jason's sincerity.

"I have your word on it?" he had demanded.

"You do," Jason had answered firmly.

Minos had nodded once; a curt gesture.

"Very well," he had said. "Your friend Pythagoras informed me that you do not give promises lightly and will keep them if it is humanly possible so I will take you at your word." He had hesitated for a moment. "I do not believe that this will be a completely risk free enterprise no matter how much you might believe otherwise. Yet it will not, perhaps, be as dangerous as some of the tasks we will all have to face if we are to reclaim our city and our homes from the Amphigeneians. You may well be right in believing that you are well suited to this mission. I have spoken with General Dion and he has informed me that he believes that you have the potential to become the best swordsman in Atlantis."

Jason had flushed with embarrassment at the unexpected compliment.

"I think he's being a bit kind," he had replied.

"Neither Dion nor I are given to uttering undeserved praise," Minos had stated with a raised eyebrow. "If Dion says a thing it is because he believes it to be true." He had looked appraisingly at his stepson, taking in the lowered head and palpable embarrassment with a mixture of amusement and indulgence. "If you choose to remain at court for any length of time – choose to stay with us once this current situation is all over – you will have to learn to accept praise with good grace and in the same manner in which it is delivered," he had advised gently. "I have found that all too often members of my family are subjected to false flattery or vicious gossip. Genuine praise is a rare thing. Learn to accept it for what it is when it comes along."

"Yes Your Majesty," Jason had answered, still dreadfully embarrassed and fighting the urge to bite his lip.

Minos had smiled wryly at him.

"Perhaps we should discuss the logistics of the mission you are to undertake," he had said. "I will send for General Dion."

Jason pulled his mind away from the memory of the meeting he had had with his stepfather and back into the present to find his mother staring at him with her anger still evident on her face.

"You should not be taking this sort of risk at all, whether you deem it necessary or not," she pointed out sharply.

"Maybe," Jason answered, "or maybe not. At the end of the day King Agrias has made sure that I have no choice and I have to go through with this. I'm not willing to risk the consequences to either Atlantis or the King if I don't." He crossed the floor to his mother's side and caught hold of her hand. "I know that you just want to protect me," he added. "But I'm a big boy and we live in a dangerous world. You can't shield me from it. I can do this. I _need_ to do this. I'm not good at sitting in council chambers. I spend half my time worrying that I'm going to offend someone and the other half trying not to fall asleep. Nobody but the King really wants me there. Most of them can't work out why I _am_ there and certainly aren't about to listen to anything I've got to say. This is a way that I can help. I keep telling you that I've been looking after myself for a long time now... One day you might even believe it. I understand that you want to keep me safe but I'm not sure that's always going to be possible… and it certainly isn't right now."

"Is wanting you to be safe so very wrong?" Pasiphae demanded crossly, although Jason didn't fail to hear the little catch in her voice that she was clearly trying to hide.

"No," Jason said softly. "Like I said, I understand how you feel. I'd give just about anything to see the people that I care about safe… but right now you need to trust me. After all, if I was Heptarian would we be having this conversation?"

"Of course not," Pasiphae snapped. "Heptarian was not my son."

She tried to wrench away from Jason but found her hand securely held. Jason offered her a smile that was both soft and a little sad.

"No," he said, "but he was your nephew and from what I've gathered you did bring him up."

Pasiphae paused for a moment. When she spoke again her voice had softened noticeably, becoming reflective.

"I did," she acknowledged. "Heptarian was just a young child when he came to me. He was never a very loveable child but perhaps…" she broke off for a moment before continuing. "He was not my son; could never replace the child I had lost; could never replace _you_." She looked at Jason and found him watching her steadily. "I watched Heptarian grow into a man. Become the warrior and leader of men he was born to be. He was brave if nothing else."

"And you wouldn't have thought twice about sending him off on this sort of errand," Jason responded.

"No," Pasiphae replied. "I would not. Heptarian was a fully grown man and had been in battle many times." She raised her free hand to forestall the objection she saw in her son's eyes. "And, yes, I know you are a grown man too… and that you have been in battle; have been in dangerous situations that I do not know about and probably do not _want_ to know about… but I was not there to witness you grow from the child I knew to the man you are. We have had so little time together and I do not want to lose you."

She turned as far away from Jason as his grip on her hand would permit, desperately trying to prevent him from seeing how much he had affected her; to keep her emotions hidden.

"And you won't," Jason said gently. "I promise I'll come back."

"Do not make promises unless you are certain you can keep them," Pasiphae snapped.

"I don't," Jason replied. "I give you my word that if it's within my power I _will_ come back… and I won't do anything stupid; I won't take any risks that I don't think I need to."

He drew back a little from his mother and let go of her hand, free hand playing with the necklace at his throat. Pasiphae's eyes were drawn to his hand and the little golden crescent he was fingering.

"You rarely remove that necklace," she said, changing the subject abruptly.

"No," Jason acknowledged. "It's important to me."

"It was presented to Aeson shortly after you were born," Pasiphae went on, her words clipped. "A gift from the Oracle. She told Aeson that it had been touched by Poseidon himself; that it would give you Poseidon's sacred blessing; his protection. We hung it over your crib. You used to reach up and play with it. We had planned to pack it away as you grew older and to give it to you formally on the day you were presented to the phratria; the day when you would have become a full citizen of Atlantis. It was to have shown that you were a servant of Poseidon; that you carried his favour. I would ask, therefore, how you come to have it now when I believed it to have been lost or destroyed during the civil war?"

"My Dad gave it to me just before he went away," Jason answered softly. "It was the last proper conversation we ever had. I think he knew he wasn't coming back. It's always been my one link to him."

Pasiphae nodded slowly.

"I have heard you use the term 'dad' before and presume that you are referring to your Father, but it is not a word that I am familiar with," she remarked.

Jason huffed a faint laugh.

"Yeah," he said. "It is another word for father. Where I grew up most people used the words mum and dad rather than mother and father. It's just a bit less formal; a bit friendlier. I mean some people still use mother and father… but I guess that the perception is that you're not as close to your parents if you call them by the formal names. I'm not sure how accurate that is… it's not something I've got a lot of experience with… obviously."

Pasiphae looked thoughtfully at him for a moment.

"I see," she replied softly. She paused for a moment. "The necklace bears the symbol of the Oracle," she went on; her voice becoming clipped once again. "If you are caught by any of the Amphigeneian forces it will instantly mark you as coming from Atlantis and as being a servant of Poseidon. I dread to think what their response would be. You would do well to conceal it."

Jason nodded and sighed, although he did still smile at his mother. With one swift movement he reached up and lifted the necklace over his head, pressing it gently into Pasiphae's hand and closing her fingers over it.

Pasiphae looked down at her hand in surprise. Then her eyes snapped back up to her son's face, a questioning expression written on her features.

"Look after it for me," Jason said gently. "It means a lot to me… I'll be back to collect it."

The Queen swallowed hard past the sudden surge of emotion, although she managed to keep her face as impassive as usual. She slipped the necklace inside her dress, hiding it from all prying eyes.

"I will ensure that it is kept safely and guard it against your return," she stated gravely.

Jason favoured her with the soft, slightly shy smile he sometimes gave.

"Thank you," he said simply. "I'll come back to get it as quickly as I can." He glanced briefly at the water clock against the wall. "I must get on," he went on ruefully. "We need to get on the road as soon as we're packed. "The King instructed someone to arrange for horses and supplies to be made ready. I just need to pack a couple of bits and we'll be on our way."

"The supplies are indeed ready," Pasiphae responded firmly. "I have seen to it myself."

Jason gave her a startled look. Somehow he hadn't expected that, knowing that his mother would be less than happy with him volunteering to go on this mission. The fact that she had given attention to making sure that the supplies he and his friends would need for their journey in spite of her own feelings was touching and another example of Pasiphae showing her affection through little gestures rather than words.

"Thanks," he said with genuine gratitude.

"You are welcome," Pasiphae answered softly. She stepped forwards again and took her son's hands in her own. "Come back quickly and safely," she instructed sternly, "and may the Gods go with you."

* * *

It was a beautiful day. For once the sun was shining; the light dancing across the waves that broke on the shore; the sky and sea a brilliant blue, seen beyond the roofs of the town. From somewhere in the grounds of the royal estate a peacock called, its cry harsh and loud, breaking the peace of the afternoon. A gentle breeze whispered through the leaves and nearer to the house a lark added its own tuneful song to the discordant cry of the peacock.

In a large, airy window overlooking an orchard, Ariadne stood gazing outwards – although she took in little of the scene in front of her as her mind turned inwards, contemplating her own problems.

In the weeks since her father had learned of Jason's identity she had dared to begin to hope that her fondest dreams might actually come true; that she might be allowed to be open about her feelings; that eventually her father would give his permission for the two of them to be together.

The events of the last few days had squashed that hope, however. She could no longer afford to entertain it. Believing that it would be kinder to both of them to not have to see one another at least until the initial pain had faded, Ariadne had taken to avoiding Jason wherever possible. But it was hard; it was so, so hard.

Now he had gone away. Jason and his friends had left last night on a mission for the King. Ariadne had watched them leave from the shadows, unable to bring herself to cause Jason additional pain by speaking with him no matter how much it might hurt her to keep her distance.

Ever since last night, though, the thought had tormented her: what if Jason didn't come back? What if something happened to him? He was riding into a dangerous situation and she had not even wished him luck. Suddenly the decision to stay away, to avoid a situation where she might be forced to hurt him once more, did not seem so clear.

Then there was the arrival of Agrias' son to think about. The young man and his retinue had made better time than even his father had expected and had arrived earlier this afternoon. Ariadne had joined her mother and stepfather on the steps house to receive him. Prince Chalcon (as she had learned his name was) had seemed charming enough and had uttered all the requisite courtesies to the King and Queen before his father had whisked him away to refresh himself after his journey. Yet Ariadne could look on him with little more than ambivalence. So this was to be her husband? He would do well enough she supposed.

Now she stood in the window of one of the private sitting rooms, arrayed in the finest clothing the dressmakers of Pagenia could provide, awaiting formal introduction to the Prince. Ariadne drew deeply on her reserves of strength. She knew her duty, knew what she must do and how she must behave towards this stranger, and she would do it to the best of her ability.

The sound of approaching feet came from a corridor outside the room and heralded the arrival of her father, stepmother and the Tanagran Prince. Ariadne drew herself up to her full height, poised at her elegant best in the window, and turned to greet them.

The King was, as ever, preceded by two of his guards who came to stand on either side of the doorway. There they would remain throughout Ariadne's meeting with the Prince, silent chaperones to protect the Princess' honour and reputation. There were other guards outside, Ariadne knew, but they would withdraw with the King when Minos decided to leave.

Ariadne tried to emulate Pasiphae's enigmatic and polite smile. This was one situation where channelling her stepmother might stand her in good stead.

"Ariadne," Minos' voice was warm and loving as he came across the chamber to greet his daughter. "May I present to you His Royal Highness Prince Chalcon of Tanagra." He gestured formally to the young man at his left shoulder. "Prince Chalcon, this is my daughter… Princess Ariadne."

"I am honoured," Prince Chalcon murmured. His voice was deep and melodious.

Ariadne allowed her smile to widen. It helped a little that this young man was so very different from Jason physically, she decided. He was very tall and sturdy, with straight blonde hair and a serious face; a solemn air about him.

"It is I who am honoured, My Lord," she answered lightly. "Your father has sung your praises most highly."

"I have no doubt," Chalcon answered wryly.

"Well?" King Agrias' harsh voice grated from somewhere behind his son. "You've met him now Minos and you can see he's more than suitable. I won't have you putting me off any longer. Your womanish hesitation is an insult to Tanagra. If you wish for my aid and my troops, let the engysis be made now."

"Father!" Chalcon admonished sharply before Minos could respond. He turned to Ariadne with a smile. "You must forgive my father's impolitic haste," he said. "He sometimes forgets that we are all supposed to be _civilised_."

"And I think _my son_ forgets the duty of respect which he owes to _me_ ," Agrias bit back.

"Come my lords," Pasiphae interjected at her charming best. "Let there be no disagreement. King Agrias is correct. Now that we are all met the engysis can take place. There is no reason why anyone here would wish to delay matters."

"Arrangements will be made," Minos said firmly. "You will, of course, wish the betrothal to be made in public that everyone might share in the good fortune and joy or our families… and with the appropriate ceremony. Such an occasion must be celebrated properly. It will not do to hurry the preparations. You may be assured that the engysis between our children will occur as soon as the proper arrangements are in place. Come, we will consult with the priests together and begin the preparations for this momentous occasion."

Agrias' eyes narrowed.

"You're not trying to delay things further, now are you?" he demanded.

"No My Lord," Pasiphae answered smoothly. "My husband merely wishes to see that your son is given all the respect he deserves."

"Very well," Agrias said, apparently mollified. "As long as it's clearly understood that I will accept no hesitation or delay."

"King Agrias, you and I will go to the temple in the town now and speak with Melas, High Priest of Poseidon," Minos stated. "If it is the Gods will that our children should be betrothed then they will not wish us to delay."

He ushered the Tanagran King towards the door as quickly as he could.

Ariadne watched them go without any pleasure. For all she knew her duty and would perform it to the best of her ability, she had no real desire to be left alone in the company of Prince Chalcon – even though she knew that it was inevitable under the circumstances. Very quickly, though, it became apparent that although the two Kings had left the room, the Queen hadn't. Pasiphae moved over to a long couch and sat down. Ariadne looked at her gratefully.

Prince Chalcon, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow as he looked at Pasiphae. The Queen returned his gaze steadily, although her eyes hardened in response to his unspoken question as she allowed a little of the aura that contributed to her fearsome reputation to show.

"Your Majesty," Chalcon began respectfully, "my father had informed me that the Princess and I were to have a private audience."

"Do you really think that would be appropriate?" Pasiphae asked sharply. "You are not betrothed yet. For you, an unmarried man, to be left alone in the company of the Princess? What if the people were to learn of it? Where would Ariadne's reputation be then? No. Until the engysis is made you will _not_ be unchaperoned."

Prince Chalcon had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Forgive me My Lady," he murmured. "I had not thought. Of course it must be as you say. I would wish no harm to come to the Princess."

"Very well," Pasiphae acknowledged.

Chalcon turned back to Ariadne.

"Your Highness," he said.

Ariadne gave him an arch smile, deliberately copying an expression she had seen her stepmother use many times over the years.

"Prince Chalcon, I suspect that unless we do away with titles we will be here all day," she said. "My name is Ariadne."

The young man in front of her huffed a faint laugh.

"You are right of course," he said, smiling warmly. "Very well then, Ariadne." He paused for a moment. "My father thinks that our two cities would make perfect allies. That my marriage to you would be of great benefit to Tanagra."

Ariadne stepped around him smoothly.

"And you?" she asked.

"Cities don't make alliances," Chalcon answered. "People do." He paused again. "We are both in a difficult position Ariadne," he went on softly. "I have always known, as I am sure you have too, that my marriage would be decided for me. That it must be about more than love. I am my father's youngest son and have little hope of inheritance in my own right. I have always known that my bride would be selected to give the most benefit to Tanagra. Yet I had hoped that I might at least be granted the time to get to know her before any engysis was made. My father, however, is determined that this engagement _must_ take place whether I like it or not."

Pasiphae's ears pricked up at Chalcon's words. Perhaps there might be an unexpected ally here. The boy seemed honest enough, although experience had taught the Queen to be suspicious of everyone's motivations. It might be possible though (if the Tanagran Prince were as honourable as he appeared to be) for her to manipulate the boy into a position where he would break the engysis himself. Pasiphae's finely tuned political mind began to mull over the possibilities.

Ariadne turned back towards her companion. She was stalking around him much like a cat, employing her natural grace to good effect. Chalcon watched her admiringly.

"You do not like what you see?" she asked mischievously.

"I like it very much," Chalcon answered with a little laugh. "You are very beautiful." He sobered and moved towards the now still Princess. "You don't have to pretend to be happy about this betrothal," he said gently. "I know that my father has forced yours into a position where he has no choice but to agree. We don't know each other at all so I don't expect you to be pleased."

Ariadne allowed the smile to drop away from her face. She was a little surprised at how easily this unknown prince was able to read her emotions.

"It seems you can read my mind," she said lightly. "Tell me, is that one of your talents?"

Chalcon laughed again.

"Hardly," he replied. "It's just that I believed your feelings must be similar to my own. Since neither one of us have any choice, however, perhaps we ought to get to know one another," he suggested seriously. He gestured towards a long couch not far from where Pasiphae was reclining and listening with interest to the conversation. "Will you sit with me?"

Ariadne nodded and followed him to the couch, sitting herself down carefully.

"Tell me a little about yourself," Chalcon murmured to her once they were both seated.

"There is little to tell," Ariadne answered softly.

"Somehow I doubt that," the young man responded. "But perhaps it is a little too soon for you to share any confidences. I meant what I said though. I know we're both in a difficult position and I'd like to make this as easy for you as I can. I don't want you to be happy or uncomfortable."

In spite of herself Ariadne found herself beginning to like this apparently earnest young man.

"You are very kind," she answered.

Chalcon looked away for a moment.

"My father is a good King for Tanagra… but he is not a good man," he admitted quietly. "He cares nothing for anyone's happiness… only about his own power and position and the greatness of our city. He sees you as a commodity. He sees us both as a means to an end. I know that you can have no feelings towards me – you do not even know me so how can it be otherwise? And I do not presume to believe that you might come to care for me… yet I dare to hope that you might come to think of me as a friend. It would be a good beginning; a good basis from which to start… and who knows what might grow from there." He looked back towards Ariadne. "Tell me, am I too daring to hope for this?"

Ariadne smiled.

"I am not sure that a prince can ever be too daring," she answered.

Chalcon took her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing the knuckles lightly.

"I hope you do not think me too forwards," he said softly.

"Our fathers are arranging for our betrothal," Ariadne pointed out. "I do not think that under the circumstances you can be accused of being too forwards."

Chalcon smiled. It lightened his serious features and made him look instantly younger.

"To friendship then?" he asked.

"To friendship," Ariadne agreed.

* * *

"I can't believe you volunteered us to go and rescue this man and his family from a town under siege."

Hercules' complaining could be heard even over the sound of the horses' hooves on the rocky ground.

Less than a day out from Pagenia and the landscape they rode through was startlingly barren as they skirted the base of a series of rocky outcrops – too large to be called hills but too low to be true mountains. Little grew here; a few clumps of grass and some scrubby bushes clinging to life as best they could.

"Sneaking into this town and stealing this family out from under the noses of the Amphigeneian army? It's suicide!" the burly wrestler went on.

Ahead of him, Jason glanced back over his shoulder at his two friends.

"The King needs Lord Herodion," he explained without rancour for the fifth time today. "We're not ready for a proper battle yet so he can't send in the army. This is the best solution. Minos needed someone he can trust." He turned back to look at the path ahead.

Hercules squinted at Jason's back.

"And you thought _we_ were the best men for this?" he demanded incredulously. "The King has a whole army of men to pick from and you have to go and volunteer _us_? Has living with the King and Queen turned your head that much and made you that big-headed that you think you're the only one that's capable?"

He almost winced at the hurt look Jason threw back over his shoulder but was still a little too angry with his friend. Truthfully he knew that the young man wasn't arrogant in the way he was suggesting; that he still lacked confidence in himself a lot of the time – but his stubborn and headstrong nature was going to get them all killed one of these days. The fact that Jason _still_ jumped in with both feet and volunteered to do this type of thing without even talking to either one of his friends rankled more than a little.

"You didn't have to come with me," Jason answered stiffly, his face setting into a stubborn frown.

"Of course we were going to come with you," Hercules retorted hotly. "Who knows what sort of trouble you'd get into if we weren't there to pull you out of it!" His eyes narrowed even further as a thought struck him. "Is this about Ariadne?" he demanded.

"Of course it isn't," Jason replied just a little too quickly.

"You're not going to win her hand this way," Hercules declared. "She's been promised to the son of King Agrias."

"I know that Hercules."

"Even if we succeed in rescuing this family and getting back to Pagenia unscathed, the King isn't going to say 'sorry I made a mistake, here have my daughter'," Hercules growled.

"You expect him to see sense but it strikes me that love is entirely nonsensical," Pythagoras interjected.

"I suggested we should leave days ago but you said no," Hercules groused.

"I wasn't about to walk away from my responsibilities," Jason interrupted tersely.

"You don't have any responsibilities towards the King!" Hercules exploded. "You don't owe _them_ anything!"

"I have a duty to Atlantis," Jason answered. "A responsibility towards the city and its people."

"Why do you believe that?" Pythagoras asked over the noise of the horses' hooves.

"The day I arrived in Atlantis, the Oracle told me that it was my destiny to save the city; to rescue the people from their suffering."

"I suspect you already did that when you killed the Minotaur," Pythagoras pointed out sensibly.

Jason shook his head.

"The Oracle still tells me I have a destiny; a purpose. That it's my duty to protect Atlantis."

"And you're only telling us this now?" Hercules demanded incredulously. He shook his head disbelievingly. "No matter how many times you risk your life, no-one will ever thank you for it… and if you think otherwise you're a fool and you'll die a fool's death… That might have sounded a little harsher than I meant it to."

"I can't just sit back and do nothing," Jason argued. "And even if I didn't want to, King Agrias made sure that Minos had no choice but to send me."

"What do you mean?" Pythagoras asked. Jason had left out this part of the story when he had told them that they were to travel to Athanos.

Jason sighed.

"When the King told the council of kings and their advisors about Lord Herodion, he made it clear that, much as he wanted to rescue his friend and needed Lord Herodion's counsel, he wasn't about to risk letting the Amphigeneians know we're here until we're ready. There's no way that he could send the army but one or two men might be able to sneak in and rescue the family without being detected and caught. It seemed logical so I suggested it… and volunteered. The King tried to refuse to let me come but King Agrias forced his hand. He basically said that if Minos wasn't willing to send me, given that he'd named me as his champion, then he'd make sure that the other kings withdrew all their support. Minos had admitted that I was a member of his family and Agrias demanded to know why any of them should risk their lives if Minos wasn't willing to send me on a simple mission."

"Why is King Agrias so afraid of you?" Pythagoras murmured, half to himself. "Why did he want you out of the way?"

Jason shot a startled look back over his shoulder.

"He didn't," he protested. "He isn't afraid of _me_. He's just trying to force the King's hand on as many minor things as he can so that Minos will have no choice but to give in to his more outrageous demands… or at least that's what the King thinks is happening."

Behind his back, Pythagoras gave him a sceptical look. Perhaps the King was right and that _was_ all King Agrias was doing (in fact, given Minos' political experience he probably _was_ right) but the mathematician was still a little worried. The problem resided in Jason's basic faith in people. Whilst Pythagoras knew that on a personal level, where his own heart was concerned, Jason found it difficult to trust anyone else, but he _did_ have a strong faith in the basic goodness of human nature; believed that everyone else would act as honourably as he himself did.

"I have to do this," Jason went on. "I'm not going to force either of you to come with me. If you want to go back, then go back but I'm going on to Athanos."

He gently smacked the side of his horse's neck, encouraging it to move faster; moving from a walk to a canter and abruptly cutting off any further discussion.

* * *

A torch guttered in the darkness and a rat skittered across the deserted street. Atlantis at night was a very different place; the usually bustling streets becoming almost eerie. Gelo poked his head out from an alleyway, looking this way and that, sharp eyes probing and assessing.

"Wait here," he hissed to someone behind him, before drawing the hood of his cloak up as far as it would go, hiding his face in the fold of dark cloth, and darting out across the street into a recessed doorway.

In the doorway he paused for a moment, listening for the sound of an approaching patrol, knowing that if he was caught it would mean the end and not just for him either. Finally satisfied that there was no-one else around, he gestured to the small group in the alley, calling them on with a wave of his hand. At the corner of the street the group paused again, hiding in the shadows as their guide checked once more that the coast was clear.

From somewhere up ahead the sound of tramping feet echoed. An Amphigeneian patrol. The sounds were moving away from them though so Gelo risked it and stepped out into the next street. He could feel how nervous his companions were and tried to project an air of calm but truthfully this endeavour never got any less nerve wracking no matter how many times he did it.

Finally, they arrived at the doorway they were aiming for – a side entrance to one of the many small bathhouses that littered the city. Gelo produced a key from under his cloak and opened the door, ushering his charges inside as quickly as he could. With one last look into the street, he carefully closed the door behind them and locked it so that there would be no evidence of their presence here if one of the many patrols should happen to check the door.

Once the door was locked Gelo turned and pushed his way through the huddled group, relying on his prior knowledge of the layout of the bathhouse to move around. The building was almost pitch black inside – the thick walls and lack of windows plunging it into complete darkness – but Gelo didn't dare to light any torches for fear that light might escape and alert the guards to the presence of people in a building that should by rights be completely deserted this late at night.

"Follow me," he whispered urgently.

The group moved on through the building, relying on touch and Gelo's memory to get them to their destination. There were only six people in this party, a couple of stray guards still loyal to Minos and a family of four – mother, father and two young children – all clutching what meagre possessions they could carry. Gelo suspected from his bearing and the way the other men deferred to him that the father of the family was an army officer, but it really didn't matter who he had been – he would be no more than a refugee once they made it past the city walls.

At the back of the bathhouse (a building purchased by Meriones some years ago but not in his own name) there was a small storeroom that was used for the scented oils, unguents and other accoutrements that were used in the everyday running of the baths. Gelo opened the door and slid inside. He moved over to a large stone coffer; an apparently immovable chest. Gesturing for one of the men to help him, he grasped one side and heaved. The coffer moved ponderously slowly to the side on runners, inching along as the two men pulled at it, to reveal a dark opening in the floor below with roughly hewn steps descending into the earth. This was another entrance into the smugglers tunnels beneath the city.

"This tunnel should take you under the city walls and bring you out beyond the sight of the lookouts," Gelo murmured to his companions. "It comes out down near the shore. You won't be able to light torches in there but it's fairly short. Just keep walking forwards and you'll come out alright. When you get to the end one of you will need to hoot like an owl. There'll be someone to meet you but he won't make himself known until he hears your signal."

"I don't know how we can ever thank you," the father of the small family said earnestly.

"Just stay safe and stay out of the Amphigeneian hands," Gelo answered with a wry smile. "The man you will meet on the other side has friends with him. They know the lie of the land and know more of what's going on beyond the city walls than we do here. They'll guide you all to safety. Listen to what they say and follow their instructions and you should do fine."

One by one the adults clasped his hand in thanks as they descended into the tunnel, the mother of the children reaching up to kiss Gelo on the cheek as she passed. Once they were safely down the steps he heaved at the stone coffer, pushing it back into place with a great deal of effort. By the time the chest was back where it belonged, Gelo was sweating heavily and panting with effort. He leant against the chest for a moment, regaining his breath.

Leading escapees through the city and helping them get past the walls never stopped being nerve wracking but it was the right thing to do. Gelo slipped back out into the street and carefully locked the door behind him, adjusting his hood to make sure that it was covering his face. Then he set off on the journey home, tasks accomplished for this night at least.

By the time he got to the Sacred Way, Gelo's mind was on bed. In the morning he would go and let Meriones know that this latest group had got away cleanly.

"You there. Stop where you are."

The harsh voice came from somewhere behind him and made him freeze, his stomach plummeting. He raised his hands, knowing that he had been caught.

"Turn around slowly and keep your hands where I can see them," the voice instructed.

Gelo did as he was told and turned to find himself facing an Amphigeneian patrol. How had he not heard them coming? He silently berated himself for growing careless.

"Don't move," the leader of the patrol growled. He had drawn his sword and pointed it straight at Gelo as he began to move forwards, his men at his back.

"Absolutely," Gelo replied. "I'm not moving."

There was a small street to his left leading into the warren of side streets where the residents of this part of Atlantis made their homes. If he could make it into those streets, then perhaps he would stand a chance. After all he had an advantage over these Amphigeneian interlopers in that he had grown up in these streets and knew them like the back of his hand. The patrol would not know their way around like he did.

He kept his hands raised and offered a faint smile to the patrol leader. As the soldier stepped ever closer, Gelo took a deep breath and darted off into the side street.

Running at full pelt, he could hear the pounding feet of his pursuers behind him. He darted this way and that, taking to the back alleyways and cramped streets in an effort to shake off the patrol. He was not far enough ahead of them to get away properly and every time he turned into a street that might lead him to safety he spotted the glare of another torch and had to change direction. It seemed that the patrol had fanned out to find him.

Finally, Gelo made a wrong turn. He found himself trapped in a dead end; an alleyway with only one entrance and a locked door at the far end. Knowing that a couple of the Amphigeneian soldiers were only a few moments away he looked around himself desperately, hoping against hope to find some way out of this.

The passage that he was trapped in was a typical Atlantian alley with the usual detritus of human life in it. There was a stack of boxes at the end – perhaps he could hide behind them? Gelo quickly discounted that possibility, however. It would take more time than he had to burrow into the boxes and leave them looking untouched and surely that should be the first place that the soldiers looked?

Also lining the alleyway were a series of large washing baskets – evidence that the building was home to a woman who took in laundry. Several of the baskets had tipped over onto their sides. Gelo looked at them speculatively. They were just large enough to hold a man in his estimation. Moving as quickly as he could, he lifted the lid off one of the standing baskets, half pulled out some of the clothes it contained and put the lid back on slightly askew, hoping to fool the guards into thinking that he was hiding inside. Then he darted over to one of the baskets that was lying on its side, its lid long gone, and crawled inside.

It wasn't a moment too soon either. Immediately after he had settled himself two of the soldiers pounded into the alley. Gelo held his breath, feeling his heart thumping in his chest, and sent a silent prayer to the Gods that they would protect him.

The two Amphigeneians stepped into the passageway, peering around suspiciously. Gelo closed his eyes and forced himself to remain completely still, fighting the instinct to get up and run; knowing that his only chance of escape lay in staying precisely where he was and hoping that he was not discovered.

One of the soldiers spotted the clothes hanging out of the standing basket and the haphazardly placed lid. All the other standing baskets were in perfect order. He elbowed his companion and smirked. Together they moved over to the basket. The one who had spotted it in the first place drew his sword and stabbed it viciously through the wicker. He withdrew the blade and stabbed into the side of the basket a second time for good measure. As he pulled his sword back his companion tipped the basket over, spilling the contents out into the street.

The first soldier swore when he realised that the basket only contained clothes. He kicked the lid of the basket across the alleyway as the second soldier poked at the clothes with his foot, grinding them into the dirt. They looked at each other in disgust and ran back out into the street, intent on taking up the search for the fugitive elsewhere.

Gelo stayed where he was for some time until all sounds of pursuit had faded into the distance. In the darkness he tried to calm his pounding heart. That had been too close.

Finally assured that he was alone, he crawled out of the basket and stepped to the end of the alley, peering nervously into the street. Everything was silent once more. Swallowing hard against the fear that still clutched at him, he walked out of the passageway with far more confidence than he felt and turned for home, picking up his pace into a fast jog in an attempt to get there a little quicker.

Back within his own doors, he let out an explosive breath. He had been lucky this time but he knew that he wouldn't always be able to rely on luck. Next time he would need to be more vigilant; make sure that he remained fully aware of his surroundings at all times. Fortunately the hood of his cloak was deep enough that it was unlikely that the leader of the patrol (or indeed any of his men) would be able to identify him in the cold light of day.

Gelo snorted. He had only just managed to survive this time and yet he was already thinking about next time. There would be a next time though. Although he was well aware that his luck would not hold forever and that sooner or later he _would_ be caught, he still couldn't let the escapees down; couldn't let Meriones down; couldn't let the Amphigeneians and their merciless King win.

But, oh Gods, he was tired. The stress of what he was doing to resist the Amphigeneians was beginning to take its toll – and he knew that Meriones was worse than him. The giant merchant was carrying the weight of much of their operations on his own shoulders and sooner or later, Gelo thought morosely, helping himself to a cup of wine from the flagon he had on the table, something would have to give.

If Meriones was right and King Minos _was_ out there somewhere, gathering an army and preparing to retake the city then Gelo wished he would get on with it. Rescue couldn't come soon enough.

Finishing off his wine and hanging his cloak on a hook at the back of the door, Gelo toed off his boots and slipped between the cold sheets of his bed. Tomorrow there would be time enough to analyse this night's work and the problems he had encountered. For now he needed to rest. Dawn would come soon enough and he would need all the sleep he could get.

* * *

It was late and the fire was beginning to burn down. Pythagoras sat on his blanket with his cloak and a second blanket pulled about his shoulders staring into the slowly dying flames thoughtfully. He really ought to be trying to get some sleep. There would be another long day of riding ahead of them tomorrow and it would do no good at all if he fell asleep in the saddle because he hadn't got enough rest now. Hercules had agreed to take the first watch for once and Pythagoras knew he really ought to be taking advantage of it.

As if thinking about him summoned him, the burly wrestler slipped back into their small camp. He had gone into the woods surrounding the small clearing they had stopped for the night in to collect a little more firewood. He stopped by the fire and threw a couple of small branches onto it to try to coax it back into a bit more life. Then he wandered over to his own blankets, just to one side of Pythagoras and dropped down onto them.

"You're supposed to be asleep," he observed, not actually looking at the young genius.

"I know," Pythagoras acknowledged, "but my mind is a little too busy tonight."

"What's troubling you my friend?" Hercules asked.

Pythagoras looked across to the other side of the fire to where their other friend had laid out his bed roll. Jason had stretched out on his side facing the fire, with one arm curled beneath his head. He appeared to be fast asleep – something that Pythagoras was both glad and jealous of.

"Do you believe it's true?" he asked. "What he says about his destiny?"

Hercules sighed and followed Pythagoras' gaze across the fire to their housemate.

"I believe that _he_ believes it," he rumbled. "I believe that he's faster than any man I've ever seen… He can look at Medusa without being turned to stone. The Oracle told me he's touched by the Gods. Whether or not it's his job to save all of Atlantis? Well that I don't know."

"And what's our part in all of this?"

Hercules huffed a slightly bitter laugh.

"To try and stop him from getting himself killed," he answered. "Even if it means following him on one of these ridiculous suicide missions."

"Do you really believe we can do that?" Pythagoras asked.

"We can certainly try," Hercules replied.

They lapsed into silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts.

"There was a time when you would not have followed anyone anywhere," Pythagoras said, breaking the silence.

Hercules smirked at him and shook his head.

"It was a struggle to get you out of the tavern," the mathematician went on with a grin.

"That is a barefaced lie," Hercules protested without rancour.

"Is it?"

"No," the burly wrestler replied. "I've spent my life in taverns claiming to be a hero." He looked across at Jason again. "I know the real thing when I see it. That's one of the reasons I follow him on these stupid missions. In the hope I'll become the man I pretend to be."

Pythagoras smiled softly to himself. In many ways Hercules already was the man he dreamed of being – even if he would never believe it himself.

"You are a good friend," he said gently. "Even if you have been known to dangle me headfirst off the balcony when you are angry." He looked affectionately at Hercules. "You are my friend and there's no-one I would rather have by my side in any situation. I love you… both of you. You and Jason are the only real family I have."

Hercules wiped at his eyes, although he attempted to hide the gesture.

"Are you crying?" Pythagoras asked with incredulous amusement.

"Crying? Don't be ridiculous!" Hercules proclaimed. "I've got some ash in my eye."

"No," Pythagoras replied. "You have tears in both of your eyes."

"Are you going to talk all night or are you going to get some sleep?" Hercules asked grumpily. "I for one will not be picking you up off the ground if you fall asleep and fall off your horse tomorrow!"

"You are right," Pythagoras responded. "I should at least attempt to get some sleep tonight. Good night my friend."

"I'll wake you for the second watch," Hercules answered as his young companion laid down and wrapped himself in his blankets. "Sleep well."

Time passed slowly. Sometime after he had bid Pythagoras good night, Hercules found his eyes drifting involuntarily shut. Forcing them back open, he peered up at the sky, trying to see the position of the moon through the treetops. Surely it couldn't be long now until he woke the young mathematician for his turn. Hercules grimaced. It looked very much as though the moon still had a little way to go before he could wake his friend and settle down to sleep himself. His head began to nod again as drowsiness overtook him.

A soft sound snapped Hercules back to full wakefulness. His eyes narrowed as he peered around nervously. Nothing seemed to be stirring so what had disturbed him? After a moment the sound came again. This time, though (now that he was a little more awake) Hercules could tell that it was coming from the far side of the fire – which was burning low again. He would need to put some more wood on it to keep it going.

As the burly wrestler watched, Jason shifted restlessly in his sleep, muttering almost inaudibly to himself; no more than a faint whisper of sound. Hercules breathed a sigh of relief. At least what he had heard hadn't been a threat. He glanced to the side to reassure himself that Pythagoras was still sleeping peacefully before turning back to look at his other friend.

Jason shifted and mumbled something again, his face screwing up into a frown. At some point he had rolled onto his back and now he tossed his head from side to side in his sleep. Hercules frowned and stood up carefully, trying not to wake Pythagoras as he moved, and crept around the edge of the fire. He crouched down next to his other friend. Before he could move any further, however, Jason's eyes snapped open and he drew in a sharp breath.

"It's alright," Hercules rumbled, noting the way his friend's eyes darted around wildly. "You're alright. It was just a dream."

Jason didn't respond. He pushed himself up until he was sitting and scrubbed his hands across his face, swallowing hard.

Hercules backed off and moved to stoke the fire, before coming back and sitting down near to Jason but still giving his friend the space he needed to regain his composure.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked, staring into the heart of the fire.

"Not really," Jason answered.

Hercules squinted at him.

"It might help."

Jason sighed.

"I doubt it," he replied. "but thanks for the offer anyway."

"I want to help," Hercules rumbled softly.

"I know," Jason said with a half-smile, "but like you said, it was just a dream."

He picked at a loose thread on the edge of his blanket.

Hercules looked at him speculatively for a moment. Then he stood up and moved back over to where he had been sitting. Picking up his blanket and a wine skin, he wandered back around the fire and laid the blanket on the ground near to his dark haired friend. He sat down and unstoppered the wine, taking a long gulp before offering the skin to the young man.

Jason looked at it in bemusement.

"No thanks," he said.

"Suit yourself," Hercules replied. "I just thought you could use a drink."

Jason snorted.

"Wine isn't the answer to all the world's problems you know," he murmured.

"No," Hercules answered, talking another long gulp. "But it is one of its pleasures." He glanced sideways at his companion. "What's troubling you my friend?" he asked, proffering the wine skin for a second time.

This time Jason took it and took a drink; a far smaller sip than the burly wrestler's gulps.

"It's nothing," he said. "Stupid."

"It's not nothing if it's worrying you," Hercules pointed out.

Jason took a second sip, staring deep into the fire.

"I haven't been sleeping well since Atlantis fell," he admitted. "Strange dreams… not exactly nightmares but… I dunno… weird. They wake me up most nights and then I can't get back to sleep easily."

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Hercules demanded. "He's probably got something that could help," he nodded at the sleeping form of their other friend.

"Because I don't need to be drugged into insensibility Hercules," Jason answered sharply. "Especially not out here when we need to be on our guard."

"Yes but you'll be no good to us if you're exhausted," Hercules retorted. "And why in the name of the Gods you didn't say something back in Pagenia I don't know!"

"I thought you'd think I was going mad," Jason answered quietly. "Maybe I _am_ going mad. I sometimes wonder if anyone would be able to tell if I was." He paused for a moment. "You've only just started treating me like I'm normal again. I didn't want to go back to you treating me like I was fragile."

Hercules took the wine back off him and swallowed down another mouthful.

"You're not going mad," he asserted firmly. "You're just a bit cracked around the edges." He nudged Jason with one shoulder to let his friend know he was only teasing. "Now are you going to tell me what's been going on?"

"I don't really know what to tell you," Jason admitted. "It's not as if it's anything serious after all."

He hesitated briefly. Should he try to tell Hercules about what had been happening to him the last few weeks? Would the big man understand?

"Jason," Hercules said firmly. "Just tell me."

Jason swallowed hard.

"Back at the hunting lodge I told Pythagoras about a dream I had the night we met the naiads," he answered quietly. "In that dream I saw the Amphigeneians attacking the city… I saw them taking the Temple… and I saw Anaxandros murdering the Oracle… bending her back over the altar and raising his sword to kill her. I thought it was just a nightmare… but then it came true. Hercules it happened exactly the same way I dreamt it… even down to what people said."

Hercules blew out an explosive breath.

"So what you're telling me is that you dreamt the future," he said flatly.

"I know it sounds insane… it _is_ insane… but I swear it's true."

"Oh I believe you," Hercules rumbled. "I've known people who've had visions before… and the Oracle said you were touched by the Gods. That's bound to make you a bit different from most people. What I don't get, though, is why you didn't tell us about this before?"

"I wasn't sure…" Jason broke off and swallowed hard again. "With everything that happened before, I didn't know if you'd just think I was losing the plot again. I mean it's not exactly normal is it?"

Hercules sighed.

"You're the long lost son of the former King, your mother is a witch and you are touched by the Gods," he pointed out. "I think we left 'normal' behind a long time ago. Besides," he added, suddenly grinning, "you having the occasional prophetic dream might come in useful the next time we're at a beetle race."

He nudged Jason with his shoulder again.

Jason huffed an incredulous laugh.

"Unbelievable," he said. "I tell you that I had a dream about the future that came true and you're thinking about the advantages it might give you in gambling."

"All I'm saying is that it could be very useful," Hercules replied defensively. "If you could tell me which beetle will win we could make a fortune."

"It's not like I can control my dreams, Hercules," Jason protested. "And beetle racing definitely hasn't come into them!"

"It _has_ happened more than once then," the burly wrestler said softly, his broad face growing serious once more.

"Yeah," Jason answered. "The first time it happened was when the slavers took Cassie. The night before I had this dream… only it was more like disjointed images than anything… and some of them… well, they came true when we rescued the children."

Hercules sighed.

"I don't think I'm really the best person to help you with this one," he rumbled. "Why haven't you spoken to the Oracle… or your mother? I would have thought they would be the obvious people to talk to… what with the one of them being a seer and the other being a witch."

"I can't bring myself to trust the Oracle again at the moment," Jason admitted. "I'm still angry at her… even if she _did_ think she was doing everything for the best."

"Why?"

"Because she lied, Hercules… and she kept on lying. She knew I came here in search of my father. She knew what it would have meant to me to find him… and she knew how much I wanted to know about my mother… and she looked me in the eyes and lied time and time again. I haven't forgiven her for that yet."

Hercules nodded his understanding and gestured for his younger companion to continue.

"As for telling Pasiphae," Jason went on. "I wasn't entirely sure how she'd react. I didn't know if she'd believe me or not… and with everything else going on she's got enough to do already without me adding any problems into the mix."

"I don't think I'll ever be able to bring myself to like the Queen," Hercules admitted, "and I certainly won't ever forgive her for trying to kill you… but much as I hate to admit it I think you need to talk to her when we get back to Pagenia. I don't fully trust her and I don't think I ever will but it's pretty obvious that she _does_ care about you. I can't see that she wouldn't believe you… and if she doesn't… well, I've said before that it wouldn't take all that much for us to leave."

"Maybe," Jason replied. "I don't want it to come to that though."

He leant forwards, arms folded on his bent knees and chin resting on them, looking into the fire as he lapsed into silence. He lifted one hand and unconsciously rubbed at his temple.

"Alright?" Hercules asked, breaking the silence of the last few minutes.

"Mmm," Jason replied. "I seem to end up with a headache whenever I have one of the dreams. The wine probably wasn't a good idea."

"Oh I don't know," Hercules replied. "If it relaxed you a bit then that's all to the good… and as far as getting headaches goes, we're travelling with Pythagoras. I've no doubt he'll sort something physiciany out for you."

Jason huffed a faint laugh, his eyes beginning to grow unexpectedly heavy once more.

Hercules reached out with one meaty hand and began to rub the back of his friend's neck, easing away any tension he felt there. He smiled to himself as he felt Jason begin to give in and relax almost against his own will, knowing that sleep wouldn't be far behind.

"Why don't you try to get a bit more sleep?" he asked gently. "We'll have a long day ahead tomorrow and you've got the last watch of the night. May as well take advantage and get a little more sleep now if you can."

Jason nodded vaguely and laid down, dragging his cloak up to cover himself.

"Goodnight," he said sleepily. "I'll wake you in the morning."

"Sleep well my friend," Hercules rumbled.

He settled himself back to watch once more and glanced up at the sky to try to work out how much longer he had to go before he woke Pythagoras. Well that conversation had certainly been unexpected. Of all the things Jason could have told him – of all the things that could have been troubling his friend – that was one possibility he would never have considered. Sometimes Hercules wondered whether the Gods were playing one almighty joke on him and his friends, and he wondered what would be thrown at them next.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N I think I should probably start with a huge apology! How is it over two months since I posted a chapter? I am so sorry - I never intended to leave it this long. My only excuse is that I have had really horrible writer's block since I posted the last chapter. In an attempt to rid myself of it I've even started two new one-shots - which are currently languishing in work-in-progress hell because I haven't been able to finish them either :-(

I also need to say a big thank you to everyone that reviewed my last chapter. It does mean a lot to me that there are people still reading this story and I only hope the long gap between chapters hasn't put you off.

So, on to the new chapter. Please let me know if you enjoy it (and are still reading). Given that it's taken me so long to get _anything_ down on paper I'm not as confident about it as I would like to be. Thanks for reading :-)

* * *

The sky was clear and cloudless and the day was warm; a welcome respite from the midwinter storms. Pasiphae wandered alone down the peaceful paths of the garden, allowing the tranquillity of the place to flow through her. This section of the garden was reserved for the women of the household alone (much like the gynaikonitis within the house itself where only men related by blood or marriage were permitted to enter) so Pasiphae was not worried that she would be disturbed. To her mind the only person that might be likely to disturb her quiet contemplation was Ariadne and, as she knew that this was the time when the girl attended to her devotions and duties at the temple, that seemed highly unlikely.

Pasiphae allowed her mind to drift for a time as she meandered. There were so many different problems for her to wrestle with. Pasiphae prided herself on having a high level of political acumen and a well organised mind. She had, after all, survived in the cutthroat arena that was the Atlantian court for well over twenty years and had thrived where other weaker souls had fallen by the wayside and been devoured. Now she used that level of mental organisation to good effect; now she needed to – the stakes had never been higher for her it seemed. And there was so very much to think about, after all.

She resolutely shoved all thoughts of her son to the farthest corner of her mind. He was beyond her aid now; was somewhere between here and Athanos and there was nothing she could do to help him. It was natural, she decided, to be a little worried about him – knowing that the task he had volunteered for was a dangerous one (and she was still more than a little cross at Jason for volunteering in the first place and more than a little cross at Minos for accepting his offer – even if she did realise that her husband had had little choice. That last thought mollified her a little) – but it would do no good to allow those worries to consume her; to allow herself to be overtaken by unreasoning anxiety. There was no reason to believe that any harm would come to Jason after all.

Instead of allowing herself to think about the dangers her son might be facing she turned her mind to other issues. Even if they succeeded in raising an army (which seemed increasingly likely), how long could they keep it a secret from Anaxandros? As long as they remained camped in Pagenia and the bulk of their allies' forces remained beyond the borders of Atlantis it was safe enough, but surely Anaxandros would be alerted as soon as those forces began to move across the border and then he would be prepared for them. And even if they did manage by some miracle to take their enemies by surprise the city would not be easy to take. It had been built to withstand a siege and developed over the centuries into a strong fortress. The Amphigeneians had clearly taken it by treachery, using the sewers and drainage tunnels beneath the city to great effect (and how exactly had they known that the tunnels were there? Pasiphae's eyes narrowed as she thought about it. There had obviously been a traitor in the court and they would have to root him out and bring him to justice immediately on their return to their rightful positions) so they could not expect Anaxandros to fall for the same thing. He would obviously guard the entrances to the sewers closely.

Pasiphae's mind drifted back to a conversation she had had with her husband some days earlier. Minos had discussed the stories that the refugees from Atlantis were telling of their own escapes; told her of a conversation he had heard between her son and his friends that had referred to old smugglers' tunnels beneath the city – long forgotten by all but the most adventurous children; spoke of the conversation he had had with Hercules the next day where he had learned of the rumours about these tunnels. It appeared that he had a friend within the city who had helped Jason and the others escape through these tunnels. Perhaps they could be used to get men within the walls? Yet she could not quite see how this would help. The descriptions she had had of them made the tunnels sound too small and cramped to be used by a large body of men – although their entrances did at least seem to be well concealed. It seemed impossible that they would be able to get a force large enough to do any good into the city by this means. For such an endeavour to succeed they would need the element of surprise anyway. Which brought her right back to the first problem – how to move a large army across the countryside without it being noticed by the enemy.

Of course tradition dictated that as a woman she should play no part in planning the coming war (because they _were_ still at war even if Anaxandros didn't yet know where they were), but Pasiphae had only ever really bothered with tradition when it suited her purposes. Many of Minos' fellow kings were deeply conservative men, however, and would need to be manoeuvred around carefully. Not that that worried the Queen; she had had plenty of practice at manipulating people over the years.

There were other things she could do to help matters along too. Back in the cave at Dodona (as soon as she had been well enough to be aware of what was going on around her) Pasiphae had been gratified to find that she was still in possession of Jason's knife, stained with Anaxandros' dried blood. She suspected that no-one had realised she had picked it up from the floor of the Temple before she had been shot and she would rather keep it that way. As it was, the fact that no-one seemed to know that she had it was definitely useful and meant that she could practice her other arts in secret and at leisure.

She had already found a secluded corner of the house (a room that appeared to have been largely forgotten even by the servants) where she could set up a small shrine to Hekate, and the ground outside contained enough clay in it to allow her to make a small figure. All that she would need to do would be to scrape the dried blood from the knife, add a little water to it (not too much of course – she didn't want to dilute its potency and therefore the potency of the spell after all) and mix it with the clay. Then she would be able to cause harm to Anaxandros without even needing to be near him.

For now she held off. It was important to get the timing right after all. With everything the Amphigeneian King had done (and poisoning her son came fairly highly up on that particular list) Pasiphae wanted him to suffer as much as possible. The bloodthirsty side of her nature screamed for revenge. She would make Anaxandros pay for everything he had done.

She considered the matter carefully. Gratifying though it might be to act instantly and know that she was causing the man immeasurable pain it would be better to bide her time and strike at a moment when it would do the most damage – while their forces were attacking Atlantis for instance. Distracting Anaxandros at such a time could prove fatal to him. It would not take long to set up a shrine to the Goddess or to complete the necessary rituals. Such a thing could easily be achieved on the move and, while the room here in the house would have been ideal, there was nothing to say that she should not use a tent or find a secluded grove once they were on the march – because she _would_ be marching with the army whether the allied kings liked it or not; had no intention of being left behind in Pagenia to await the outcome of the battle.

And if Pasiphae was going with the army then so was Ariadne. She knew that Minos would probably object to placing his daughter in any danger but the Queen could not see that she would be in any less danger if she were left here in Pagenia with no more than a token force to guard her. After all, if she travelled with them she would be surrounded by an entire army to protect her. More to the point though, Pasiphae had no intention of letting the girl out of her sight as long as the Tanagran boy was sniffing around her. Prince Chalcon might very well be as honourable as he seemed (although Pasiphae would be very surprised if he was) but the fact remained that, because of his father's machinations and insistence on the betrothal, he remained a threat.

Pasiphae had long believed in keeping her friends close and her enemies closer – that way she could spot and exploit their weaknesses. If she was to break the engysis between Chalcon and Ariadne she needed to watch the boy and observe his interactions with the Atlantian Princess. It would not be a simple matter and would take all of her abilities to manipulate the situation to a point where the engagement could be broken without any repercussions for Atlantis or Minos. Still, Pasiphae was more than equal to the task.

She wandered on through the manicured paths of the garden, stopping occasionally to sniff the winter flowers or admire a sculpture, her mind still lost deep in thought.

"Pasiphae." The voice with startled her was decidedly female, but not one which Pasiphae had thought to ever hear again. Its tone was completely flat, betraying none of the emotion that the speaker must naturally be feeling.

Pasiphae turned with a raised eyebrow to face her companion, every inch the regal and elegant Queen.

"Tyro," she returned the greeting, her own tone reasonable and even.

Her former mother-in-law was aging well, she decided. Her once dark hair might be silver now, piled on top of her head in an elaborate style that hid the wild curls her grandson had inherited from her, but her face remained unlined and her features delicate. Her eyes were flat and unfriendly right now, which was only to be expected Pasiphae supposed, but the Queen suspected that in other circumstances they would still sparkle with the hint of mischief. Tyro had always worn her emotions in her eyes and it seemed that time had done little to change that.

"It has been a long time," old lady remarked, still with as little emotion as she could manage.

"More than twenty years," Pasiphae acknowledged.

"Not since you stole the throne from my son, forced him into exile and condemned him to a lonely death… if you did not simply arrange for him to be murdered in the turmoil when no-one was looking that is."

"What I did, I did for Atlantis," Pasiphae answered, forcing herself to keep a grip on her temper.

"What you did, you did for yourself," Tyro retorted. "Please don't try to pretend you had any sort of high moral sentiments. I know you too well to believe that. You destroyed my son to gain the power that you craved."

"We both lost sons in that particular accursed war," Pasiphae responded sharply. She closed her eyes briefly against the momentary ache in her chest; Jason might be part of her life now but she could still never forget the pain of losing him in the first place, or fail to regret all the wasted years when she believed him to be dead.

Tyro gave a bitter sigh and stepped backwards to seat herself on a nearby bench. She gestured imperiously for Pasiphae to join her. Pasiphae almost smiled. Whether she was living in seclusion away from the Court or not, Tyro was still every inch a queen. This was the woman who Pasiphae had learned much of the art of being a queen from; the elegance and poise that went with the position; the ability to dazzle and charm; the art of political manoeuvring. Tyro had perhaps been more benign than her former daughter-in-law was, yet she had controlled the Court with superb efficiency – all while making them believe that she was no more than a dutiful wife fulfilling the role in life she had been assigned. Pasiphae had always been deeply impressed with the way that Tyro had manipulated the nobility to promote her husband's (and later her son's) interests. She wondered idly what would have happened if the former Queen had been as ruthless and ambitious as she herself was.

She stepped lightly across the pathway and sat down next to the older woman.

"You did indeed lose a son," Tyro said softly. "I do not forget and I do not deny that fact… it is a sorrow that does not fade with the passage of time. Yet of the two of us I think I lost the most," she added with a sidelong glance at Pasiphae. "You lost a child but I lost both a son and a grandson. I lost everything."

"Indeed," Pasiphae acknowledged, looking out across the path at the tranquil garden. "Although that was never my intention. I bore you no ill will – I still don't. Of all the people in Atlantis, you were the one who was kind to me when I first arrived. You taught me much about ruling… about being Queen of Atlantis."

A faint smile touched the old lady's lips.

"You were so frightened the day you arrived in our Court," she said. "A naïve girl full of hopes and dreams. What happened to you Pasiphae? What twisted that innocent girl into someone so hungry for power? What made you betray and usurp your husband?" Her tone became harsh as she went on.

"I grew up," Pasiphae bit back, "and realised that I was never going to be good enough for your precious son."

"He loved you."

"At first, perhaps… but when I failed to give him heirs that love soon turned to indifference. He blamed me, you know? Because I did not provide him with a gaggle of snivelling brats."

"But when Jason was born…"

"By then it was too late," Pasiphae retorted. "The damage was done. Aeson no longer looked on me with the passion he once had and I had found other… interests to fill my life. I will admit that we were at least united in our love for our son, but there was little else left between us by that point. He feared my heritage – feared the power that was mine by right as a woman of Colchis – and I despised him for his weaknesses."

"You call my son weak?" Tyro hissed.

"What else should I call him?" Pasiphae snapped. "He believed so strongly in his divine right to rule that he failed to realise that his policies had managed to turn half the kingdom against him."

"Aeson was trying to make life better for everyone," the older woman replied sharply.

"Perhaps that is so but as King he needed the support of the nobility… and he lost it."

"Thanks to your treachery," Tyro answered.

"I barely had to lift a finger," Pasiphae flared. "The nobility were ready to rise against him with very little encouragement. Aeson was hardly universally loved and barely missed when he was gone." She looked sharply at her former mother-in-law. "Oh I know he was noble and virtuous, but tell me this: if Aeson was such a good King why have there been no rebellions against Minos' rule in all the years from then until now? When he lost the civil war he slunk away like a whipped dog to lick his wounds. He is barely even remembered in the city." She reined in her temper with some effort. "I have no desire to argue with you Tyro; no desire to hurt you any more than you have already been hurt. The past is the past… let us leave it there."

"I live with the consequences of the past every day."

"We all live with the consequences of our pasts," Pasiphae replied, "but it does no good to dwell on ancient history."

The older lady closed her eyes and huffed a humourless laugh.

"Perhaps," she acknowledged grudgingly. She paused for a moment. "I had not thought to ever see either you or _His Majesty_ again… I had hoped that I would not. That I might be permitted to live out my days in peace here in my home."

"This house and everything in it belongs to the King," Pasiphae said. "You live here at Minos' pleasure."

"And I know I should be grateful for that," Tyro answered, her eyes flashing fire. "I am constantly reminded of how much I owe to _King_ Minos. He has assuaged his own guilt by assuring that my exile is at least comfortable."

"Do not be so melodramatic," Pasiphae snorted. "You were not exiled. You chose to retire from the Court. Minos was kind. He could have chosen to have you imprisoned… or worse. Tell me Tyro, is your life here really so bad? You live in comfort and are free to come and go as you please."

"And would I have remained so free if I had not chosen to seclude myself? If I had wished to remain in the city?"

"Be grateful that that is a decision that Minos did not have to make," Pasiphae answered. "He is honourable enough that I do not think he would have seen a woman of such high birth thrown to the lions, yet there are many other fates you could have been condemned to that would have been far less pleasant than your current circumstances."

The two women lapsed into silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Presently, Tyro turned to look at her former daughter-in-law with cold eyes.

"I know why you are here Pasiphae," she said. "I still have friends who keep me informed about what is going on. You have lost the city; you have lost Atlantis."

"A temporary setback."

"But setback nevertheless. What would you give, I wonder, to keep your enemies from discovering where you are? I know that Minos is gathering forces to reclaim the city. It would be unfortunate if your enemies were to learn of these plans too soon."

Pasiphae turned to face the older woman, her eyes as hard as granite.

"You dare to threaten us?" She exclaimed incredulously. "Take care Tyro. You are not untouchable. You would be disposed of before any message you could send could reach our enemies. Threaten me or mine again and I will decide your fate for you."

"And now we see the real Pasiphae," Tyro murmured. "The vicious she-wolf." She laughed. "I do not threaten you… I do not have the power or the inclination left to threaten you. I may hate you and your husband for what you did… for what I lost… but I have no love for your enemies either. I remember Anaxandros only too well. I knew him as a boy… and if ever there was a child who should have been drowned at birth, he was it. I still love Atlantis too much to want to see it remain in _his_ hands even if that means that it must be delivered back into _yours_. I will do nothing to hinder you but I can take no pleasure in your continued presence. The sooner you and Minos leave the better."

"I have no wish to remain here for any longer than I have to," Pasiphae answered. "We will be gone soon enough. While we are here, however, it would befit you to remember that, as this is a royal estate and as I am Queen, I am mistress of this house for the duration of my stay and I _will_ order it as I see fit."

"Oh do not worry." Tyro suddenly sounded infinitely weary. "I will stay out of your way. I will not forget _my place_. I will not fight you Pasiphae. I have already lost everything that ever truly meant anything to me. Do as you will."

"And what if I could return a little of what you lost?" Pasiphae asked softly.

As she had said to Minos, she had had no intention of telling Tyro about Jason at this stage – yet now that she was here and faced with the woman's unending sorrow she found her resolve weakening. Would it really hurt to tell the old lady that her grandson had survived against all the odds? Tyro was sensible enough (and politically astute enough) that she could surely be made to see that this was a secret that she would have to keep for the time being; that it was in Jason's best interests that he didn't know about his grandmother until the current turmoil was over and they were safely back in Atlantis.

Tyro snorted.

"There is no gift that you could give me that would mean anything to me Pasiphae," she said. "I lost what was left of my family when you and Minos took the throne and nothing can ever bring them back."

"And if I were to tell you that your grandson is alive?" Pasiphae enquired.

Tyro paled.

"You wicked woman," she spat. "You toy with an old woman's grief? Have you no shame?"

"What I say is true," Pasiphae insisted. "I promise you."

"I will not sit here and listen to your lies," Tyro declared, pushing herself up from the bench and turning to leave.

Pasiphae grabbed her wrist and forced her to turn.

"I am many things," she said. "I do not pretend to be virtuous… but in this I do not lie. I will swear on the bronze bull if you desire it. The Oracle is within the temple in the town. She will confirm the truth of my words."

The older lady stared at her for a moment before sinking back down onto the bench.

"How is this possible?" she murmured.

"It would appear that we were all deceived," Pasiphae answered. "Jason was not killed as we had all believed. Instead he was stolen from his cradle and taken far beyond the borders of Atlantis to be raised with no knowledge of who he truly was. He was abandoned there. Some months ago, it would seem that he returned to the city by accident and has been living as a peasant. He was completely unaware of his parentage… of his status. I learned by accident the truth of the matter." Her eyes became soft – distant. "You cannot imagine both how wonderful and terrible the news that my son lived and was so close by was to hear," she added softly.

"Terrible?" Tyro demanded incredulously.

"Indeed," Pasiphae answered. "For I was forced at the time to believe that Jason would never be part of my life or I his. To know he was so near to me and yet to know that I could not even speak with him… that brought me more pain than you could imagine." She paused. "It is a strange twist of fate that has brought him back into my life," she mused. "I will not bore you with the details at this time. Suffice it to say that Jason now knows who he is and has been accepted by the King. His identity has been confirmed by the Oracle. He is indeed my son."

"I would not have thought Minos would have accepted him so readily," Tyro said sharply. "The boy would be a threat after all."

"Jason is no threat," Pasiphae answered. "He has no apparent desire to challenge the King for the throne. Indeed, he seems to see it as his duty to serve Minos and Atlantis in every way possible… and Minos is no fool. He can see the political advantages of having Jason at his side. As yet, however, Jason has given no indication that he is willing to stay with us. That is one of the reasons that his identity is being kept a closely guarded secret – known only to a small and select group. If the boy accepts his place, then it may silence those few malcontents who would still desire to support Aeson once and for all. Minos' only heir is his daughter. Marriage to a son of Atlantis would be far preferable to marriage to an outsider – someone who might seek to exploit the city or subjugate it to become a vassal state of another kingdom… and uniting the bloodlines of the old royal house and the new would heal the last divides in our city."

"I had heard that Minos' daughter has been betrothed to the younger son of Agrias of Tanagra," Tyro replied.

"You seem very well informed," Pasiphae retorted. "Almost suspiciously so."

"The servants like to gossip," Tyro replied.

"Yes," Pasiphae murmured, "and I wonder what else you have learned from them."

"Little enough, I assure you," the old woman answered. "They informed me that you were not in the best of health when you arrived here and that you arrived in the company of the High Priest of Poseidon, the Oracle, several soldiers and a small retinue – a young man of noble birth and his companions."

Pasiphae allowed herself a small knowing smirk – it was obvious that Tyro had not yet put two and two together and had not realised that the 'young man of noble birth' was in fact her own grandson.

"You are no fool," she stated softly. "You were Queen for long enough to understand political necessity. Minos had no choice but to betroth Ariadne to the Tanagran boy. Agrias demanded it as the price for his help… but an engysis may be broken as easily as it is made. There is a long way from a betrothal to the marriage bed and much may happen along the way."

"You intend to defy the will of the Gods and break the agreement?" Tyro demanded. "It will bring dishonour to the King and to the city."

"The Gods' will is unclear," Pasiphae replied. "The Oracle cannot yet clearly see the truth of this matter. Certainly the engysis between Minos' daughter and Agrias' son does not have the blessing of the Gods at this present moment. If the agreement is broken, then it will be done with no dishonour… I will make sure of it. But I _will not_ allow another to stand in _my son's_ place."

The older woman was silent for a moment, looking out across the garden.

"You have given me momentous news," she said, her voice throbbing with a host of emotions. "I do not know… I do not know how to react. Am I to be permitted to see the child?"

"Jason is no longer a child," Pasiphae replied. "He is a grown man… although that is something that I am finding difficult enough to reconcile myself." She cast a sideways look at her former mother-in-law. "He is not here at the moment," she admitted. "King Agrias forced Minos to send him on a mission away from Pagenia. The journey there and back will take at least ten days and he only left yesterday, so it will be some time before he returns."

"And then I will be permitted to see him?"

Pasiphae hesitated.

"I had not intended that you should learn of Jason's existence until after Atlantis is retaken," she admitted. "I have grown to know my son well enough to understand that he will be at the forefront of any battle that is to come and I do not want to risk his mind being clouded by emotion at a time when it might prove potentially fatal to him; do not want to risk his attention being divided. Jason has been unsettled by all the changes that have taken place in his life over the past weeks. I would wish to allow him to settle a little before forcing any more changes upon him."

Tyro closed her eyes against a wave of hurt.

"You will keep me from him then," she said with resigned certainty. "Did you only tell me of his existence to hurt me? To taunt me?"

"I have little time for melodrama," Pasiphae retorted acidly. "Please do not try my patience by indulging in it. I did not intend to tell you of Jason's existence because I had no desire to see you hurt. I know only too well how painful it was to know that Jason had survived and yet to not be allowed to see him… to speak with him. I had intended to spare you that pain. I do not wish to be needlessly cruel."

"Do you want me to beg?" Tyro demanded. "I will. I will humble myself before you and beg if it means you will allow me to see the boy – no matter how much it might gall me to have to ask anything of you."

"You really do hate me don't you?"

"I think I have a right, don't you? You destroyed everything that I cared for. Stripped me of all I loved."

"Perhaps," Pasiphae said softly. "I think you and I understand one another better than most, Tyro." She sighed. "As I have said, I have no desire to hurt you or to be cruel."

"Then you will permit me to see him?"

Pasiphae allowed a faint smile to touch her lips.

"You already have," she answered.

"What do you…" Tyro began with confusion. Then understanding suddenly dawned on her face. "The young man who came into the gynaikonitis on the day your party arrived here… that was Jason?"

"It was. I understand from Minos that Jason had lost his way looking for the dining room and found his way into your private sitting room by accident."

Tyro sat back and closed her eyes.

"Oh dear Gods," she breathed. "I was so close to my own flesh and blood and did not even realise it."

"You had no reason to suspect that the boy was still alive," Pasiphae replied. "None of us did."

"If I had known who he was I would have paid more attention… spoken to him quite differently."

"Then it is as well that you did not know," Pasiphae responded crisply. "I have told you that I do not wish Jason to know who you are to one another at this time and have explained my reasons for this."

"You really will keep him from me then?" Tyro asked.

Pasiphae gave an exasperated sigh.

"If you can guarantee to me that Jason will not learn who you are… that he will not even learn so much as your name… and that you will do nothing to give your identity away to him… that you will, in fact, actively seek to prevent him from learning who you are… then I will find a way for you to see him briefly," she said briskly.

"Thank you," her companion murmured. "If those are the conditions that I have to meet to be able to see my grandson, then I will abide by them."

"Very well," Pasiphae answered firmly. "Then I will make arrangements once Jason has returned to Pagenia." She hesitated for a moment. "You will not need to keep this secret forever, Tyro," she added in a far softer tone. "Once we have reclaimed Atlantis from Anaxandros and our lives have returned to their normal courses, I will make sure that Jason learns who you are. I suspect that when that happens I will not be able to keep him from coming here to meet you properly."

"You would do that for me?"

"I would do it for Jason," Pasiphae replied simply. "He was raised as an orphan – a lonely child from what I have gathered – and the knowledge that he has a family of his own seems to be important to him. I will not prevent him from knowing about you for any longer than is necessary."

She looked up and gauged the time from the position of the sun.

"I have duties to attend to," she stated, pushing herself to her feet. "I must leave you now. We will speak of this again when I have the time."

With that she swept off down a pathway towards the house, leaving her older companion alone with her thoughts.

* * *

The woods were still and peaceful in the soft light of dawn. High in the treetops the birds were singing their early morning chorus and small animals scampered through the undergrowth, rustling the fallen leaves and small bushes as they went.

Jason smiled softly to himself as he quietly set about packing up his bed roll and checking his horse's tack, moving as noiselessly as possible to avoid waking his still slumbering friends. In spite of everything that was going on he found himself remarkably at ease this morning – more so than he had felt in weeks. Talking to Hercules last night had definitely helped; his older friend's unquestioning support and the fact that Hercules had not instantly thought that he was going mad had eased Jason's mind more than he would have imagined. The fact that Hercules had made light of the situation in his own inimitable Hercules style had helped too. Jason nearly snorted. Beetle racing! Honestly!

Actually, what on earth had made him think that his friends wouldn't believe him? Jason shook his head ruefully, silently berating himself for his own rank stupidity. After all they had been through together he really should have known better than to doubt them. It was true, he supposed, that he still hadn't spoken to Pythagoras directly, but he could hardly imagine that his gentle friend would react any differently to Hercules – with sincere and wholehearted support and open affection.

The last watch of the night had passed as peacefully for Jason as the earlier watches had passed for his friends. At least the Amphigeneians weren't out this far. So far, it seemed, their activities had been solely confined to capturing and subduing the city of Atlantis and laying siege to Athanos. That was fortunate. It meant that the three of them had been able to make good time yesterday without having to worry about avoiding enemy patrols. Obviously the closer they got to Athanos the more dangerous their journey would become but for now things were going well.

Jason had to admit to himself that it felt good to be back on the road with just his two friends for company too. He was gradually coming to enjoy the company of his stepfather (much to his own amazement) and was growing to love his mother in a way that just a few weeks ago would have seemed impossible, but living with the King and Queen (even in exile) was putting far more pressure on him than he would have imagined. It was a bit like living in a goldfish bowl really – or perhaps under a microscope – with his every word or action being scrutinised. It would only get worse if he chose to stay with them indefinitely and allow the secret of his relationship with Pasiphae to become common knowledge. At least in Pagenia he really only had the scrutiny of his parents to contend with, if he were to do what he knew Pasiphae wanted and take his place as prince he knew the eyes of the full Court would be on him constantly.

Jason shuddered. That didn't really bear thinking about. To know that everyone was watching you; judging you; to never really have a moment's privacy – how did Ariadne do it? Of course, Ariadne had been raised as a princess; had spent her life living in the shadow of other people's expectations; had grown up knowing how to behave in any given social situation; had always lived in the spotlight, so to speak. Jason, on the other hand, had grown up largely in the shadows, at least half forgotten or ignored – and to be honest that was the way he liked it. He'd never been happy on those few occasions when he had been the centre of attention.

No, after the last few weeks Jason definitely had new found respect for Ariadne. He'd always admired her spirit and her poise (when he wasn't staring longingly at her or dreaming of kissing her that was) but he'd never really realised before now just how much effort it must take her to always appear as the perfect princess. Attending the various dinners and feasts with the visiting Kings and local nobility and being forced to make small talk with the terminally boring or sycophantic, all the while minding his manners and trying not to inadvertently offend anyone, had been far more mentally and physically taxing than Jason would have thought possible. It probably didn't help that small talk was most definitely not his strongest point, but even so he had been really impressed with how easily and smoothly Ariadne handled social gatherings. Somehow he couldn't see himself ever being as comfortable in those situations as she seemed to be.

He sighed, resolutely trying to put the beautiful Princess out of his mind. He had promised himself that he wouldn't think about her on this mission; that he would use the time to put distance between them and to reconcile himself fully to her impending engagement and marriage. Thinking about it still made his guts wrench each and every time.

Jason shook himself. He was still supposed to be on watch after all and letting his mind wander was not what he should be doing right now. Actually, now that he thought about it, going and foraging for some breakfast was probably a good idea. They had supplies packed but it was still a three or four day journey to Athanos (depending on how quickly they managed to travel) and there was no guaranteeing that they would be able to replenish those supplies at any point either on the way to the town or on their way back to Pagenia. All it would take would be a hold up of a day or two and their supplies would run short. Picking fruit and berries for breakfast to save them having to dip into their supplies seemed like a sensible idea.

Jason reached into his pack and pulled out a bowl before backing quietly away from the horses and turning back to check on his friends once more. Hercules was still wrapped tightly in his blankets, fast asleep. Pythagoras, on the other hand, was already stirring. With a sleepy blink, he opened his eyes and sat up, yawning and looking around the small clearing. On seeing Jason, he smiled.

"Good morning," he said softly.

"Morning," Jason replied, keeping his voice just as quiet as Pythagoras had. Somehow it seemed wrong to break the peace of the morning by speaking too loudly. "I was just going to go and see if I could find some berries or something for breakfast," he added, gesturing to the bowl in his hand.

Pythagoras nodded his agreement.

"That would seem like a wise move," he said approvingly. "It would seem sensible to preserve our supplies as much as possible." He squinted at Jason. "Just let me get up and I will join you."

Not far from where they had camped for the night they two young men found some low plum trees still bearing fruit. They worked quickly and largely in silence, completely comfortable in each other's company. Soon enough the bowls were largely full. Jason reached out to grab a particularly plump and succulent looking plum. As his fingers brushed the fruit, his eyes grew suddenly distant; face slackening disturbingly and bowl slipping from suddenly nerveless fingers.

Pythagoras was alerted by the clatter as the bowl hit the floor. He turned, ready to tease his friend for his clumsiness and help Jason pick up the fruit he had dropped. The vacant look on his friend's face made the young mathematician stop, instantly worried. He reached out and grabbed hold of Jason's arm, his concern increasing as the other young man failed to react to his touch.

"Jason?" he ventured.

For several long moments he received no reply.

"Jason?" he tried again.

Finally, Jason's eyes snapped back into the present, darting around a little wildly as his breathing sped up. Without Pythagoras' steadying hand on his arm he would have stumbled. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes briefly, before opening them to look at his friend.

"Athanos," he said urgently; breathlessly. "The western ramparts are falling. They're the weak spot. The gate will fall and the Amphigeneians will stream in through it. We can use the chaos to get in… but we don't have much time. We have to hurry."

"Jason, what are you talking about?" Pythagoras murmured patiently. "You are not making any sense and I am afraid that you are unwell. Sit down for a minute."

Jason shook his head.

"We don't have time," he said sharply. "We need to be nearby when the town falls. It's the only chance we have to save Lord Herodion and his family. We have to be there on the night of the full moon. That's when the gate will be breached."

"Three nights from now? How could you possibly know that for certain?" Pythagoras asked.

Jason swallowed hard and closed his eyes.

"I had a chat with Hercules last night," he replied obliquely.

Pythagoras frowned at the apparent non-sequitur. Before he could respond, however, Jason swallowed hard again and opened his eyes – looking earnestly at his friend.

"There's something I need to tell you," he said.

* * *

It was late afternoon when the three men finally approached Athanos from the west. The rest of the journey had gone well enough and they had gone unhindered. Reason (and Pythagoras) dictated that they should be cautious though, so they left the horses tethered out of sight in the treeline and crept forwards to the edge of a rocky bluff to try to get some idea of what was happening on the plain below.

Keeping as low as they could to try to avoid being spotted, they lay down on the outcrop and peered down at the town below. It was not a reassuring sight. Laid out before them, the Amphigeneian army (or at least part of it) had clearly been bombarding Athanos for days. Parts of the wall lay in rubble and enemy soldiers attempted to capitalise on the breaches, climbing the piles of stone to try to pour in through the gaps in the walls only to be thrown back by the men still defending the walls. Flames flickered through a tower on the nearest corner of the walls and smoke rose from a dozen other places, rising high into the sky and wreathing above the town. Athanos was burning.

"You were right," Pythagoras murmured. "The western ramparts _are_ the weak spot. Look, the gate has nearly gone." He pointed towards the town.

His two friends peered down at Athanos and at the sheer number of soldiers attacking it.

"There must be hundreds of them," Jason breathed quietly.

"Thousands," Pythagoras agreed.

"And somewhere in the middle of all that chaos is the man we've been sent to find and his family," Hercules muttered.

"I would say our chances of success are slim to non-existent," Pythagoras added.

"Really?" Hercules asked sarcastically. "That high?" He turned to look at Jason. "It's never too late to turn back," he said. "I don't suppose you'd let us talk you out of this?"

"I made a promise," Jason answered. He looked back down at the town again. "It won't be long until that gate falls completely," he noted, "and then the Amphigeneians will be in the town."

"No," Pythagoras replied. "I would not imagine it would be long at all." He glanced at his dark haired friend. "It would appear that your vision was correct," he said. "Tonight is the night of the full moon and the gate will be breached."

Jason swallowed hard and nodded, still more than a little freaked out by the whole thing.

"We wait for dark," he replied softly. "The Amphigeneians should be fully in the town by then. If we ride in hard and come from out of the darkness, we should be able to get straight through. It's going to be chaos down there. We should be able to use that. They're certainly not going to be expecting to see three men _entering_ the town rather than fleeing from it."

"No sane man would be trying to get into the town," Hercules groused.

Jason ignored his large friend's grumbling.

"What then?" Pythagoras asked.

"Then we do what we came to do," Jason answered. "King Minos made sure I knew where Lord Herodion's house is, so we head straight there, gather up him and his family, and leave the way we came. Hopefully they'll have horses of their own but if not we'll have to double up until we get back out of the town. With luck we'll be in and out of Athanos quickly enough that no-one will even know we've been there."

"I'm hearing a lot of 'hopefullys' and 'with lucks' in there," Hercules grumbled. "What happens if luck isn't on our side?"

"I think we just have to pray it will be," Pythagoras murmured.

* * *

From the balcony adjoining the small room he used as a study, Lord Herodion watched the clouds of smoke billowing up over Athanos with ever growing gloom. Surely the town could not hold out for much longer? He had popped outside for a breath of fresh air but the sound of distant battle from the town walls had distracted him, leading his thoughts down dark paths.

With hindsight he should have packed up his family and left Athanos when the news first filtered through that the city of Atlantis had fallen. Given that the town was the second largest settlement in the country it was perhaps obvious that this would be the next target.

Herodion had known that from the start – which was why he had sent the servants away days ago; urging them to seek out places of safety away from the advancing Amphigeneian army. He grimaced. His wife had been less than pleased at that particular development since there was no-one left to look after the family.

No, it had been foolish to linger here. If the mighty city of Atlantis had fallen to the enemy, then there was no way that Athanos could stand. Still, Athanos had been Herodion's home for many long years and he had no real wish to abandon it. There had always been the possibility that the Amphigeneians would turn aside before they reached the town. Ianthe, Herodion's wife, had grown increasingly anxious at the thought of leaving their home and all their belongings behind and had vocally urged her husband to stay – very vocally, Herodion recalled.

By the time it had been completely obvious that the town would be attacked, it had been too late to leave – and now here they were, trapped like rats. Herodion sighed gloomily. He had packed three sets of saddlebags with their most precious and portable possessions, along with essential supplies for a journey, and had made sure that their horses were ready to go at a moment's notice, but it seemed highly unlikely they would get the chance to leave now. Even if they could leave, where would they go? Atlantis had fallen; his old friend the King was most likely dead. Sooner or later it seemed likely that the Amphigeneians would move to subdue every town in the kingdom.

Herodion sighed. Nightfall was not far away, and nor, he suspected, was the end for Athanos.

* * *

"Ariadne."

Prince Chalcon's voice carried down the length of the corridor to where the Princess was walking. Ariadne resisted the urge to groan. The Tanagran Prince seemed like a nice enough young man and over the past few days she had found herself growing to like him more and more, but she had hoped to have a little time to herself – she seemed to get so little of it these days. Still, propriety dictated that she should greet her husband to be and not simply pretend that she hadn't heard him – tempting though that thought might be.

She turned with a gracious smile plastered in place.

"My Lord," she replied.

Chalcon strode up the corridor to join her.

"I thought we had agreed to dispense with titles," he chided gently.

"In private, yes, but a corridor where anyone might be walking is hardly a private place," Ariadne answered. "I think there are those who would be shocked and upset that I did not show you due respect by using your title… your father for instance. They would think it was improper."

"Hang propriety," Chalcon said firmly. "The engysis has been made and we are to be married… whether we want to be or not."

"But we are not married yet," Ariadne replied. "Besides even Queen Pasiphae refers to my father, the King, as 'My Lord'… especially in places where they might be observed. It is the way of things." She placed one gentle hand on the young man's arm. "But come," she said, "I don't think you called out to me to discuss titles or propriety."

"No," Chalcon admitted. "I had thought to seek an audience with you earlier but I was told you were unavailable."

"I was undertaking my duties at the temple," Ariadne stated. "I am still Poseidon's servant after all."

"Of course," the young man murmured.

"I am only just now returning," Ariadne continued. She sighed. "I hope the Gods will look favourably upon me and those I love."

"How could they not?" Chalcon asked smoothly. "In the face of such grace and beauty surely even the Gods must relent."

"You are very kind," Ariadne replied.

"I speak as I find," the young man answered, raising her hand to his lips. "Where were you going to? Perhaps I might be permitted to walk along with you?"

"There is a window. It looks out over the town, and beyond that the sea. It is my favourite view in this house. It is in a small sitting room that is only really used in the evening and few people seem to have noticed the view by day. I go there when I wish for solitude. It is a little out of the way and I am less likely to be disturbed there. I find I am granted little peace and quiet otherwise."

They had begun to walk once more as they spoke. Now Chalcon stopped and sighed.

"You wished to be alone and I am intruding. Forgive me. I will leave you to find peace."

Ariadne turned towards him.

"No," she replied. "I do not mind your company so very much… and as you said when we first met, it would seem sensible for us to get to know one another. Please, walk with me."

They set off again, Ariadne's hand resting lightly on the Tanagran Prince's arm.

"Sometimes the burden of royal blood seems a heavy one to bear," the young man said softly as they walked. "I know how privileged my position is as son of the King of Tanagra and yet my life is not my own. Like you, there are times when I wish only for a little peace and solitude to gather my thoughts. I am aware of how precious those moments of quiet are in a life when I am surrounded by people and where the burden of duty has been hammered into me from my earliest days. We are alike, I think. We both understand that our position is a responsibility as well as a privilege; that we have a duty to our people."

"There are remarkably few who understand that," Ariadne answered. "Even amongst those of royal blood."

She let Chalcon's arm go and pushed open the door in front of her, stepping lightly across the room and stopping before a window.

"This is my favourite place in this house," she said.

"I can see why," Chalcon replied, coming to stand behind her and resting his hands lightly on her shoulders. "It is very beautiful… as are you." He hesitated. "Ariadne," he went on. "Our union will be of benefit to both our kingdoms… but I want you to be happy. I hope that one day you will be able to look at me in a favourable light."

Ariadne turned and offered him a gentle smile.

"You have been nothing but kindness. How could I look at you in any light that is less than favourable?"

"Yes, but friendship is not love," Chalcon answered. "I hope that one day you might come to love me."

Ariadne turned away, forcing herself to swallow down the lump that had risen unbidden in her throat as a pair of warm hazel eyes sprang into her mind.

"Ah," Chalcon said sadly. "I see."

"You see what?" Ariadne asked.

"That your heart already belongs to another," the young Prince answered with a soft sigh.

"I do not know what you mean," Ariadne protested quietly.

"Yes you do," Chalcon replied. "And I am sorry. To be forced to marry when your feelings are already attached elsewhere must be difficult."

"I have always known that my husband would be selected for me," Ariadne responded. "Besides, I have not said that I have feelings for anyone else."

"You didn't need to say it. I could see it on your face and in your eyes when I spoke of love. He is worthy of you? The man who has claimed your heart?"

"I think so, yes… but it can never be."

"I am sorry," Chalcon said simply. "Might I know my rival's name?"

"It doesn't matter," Ariadne answered. "I cannot marry him. I had resolved to put him from my mind. I agreed to the engysis when my father first approached me about it… and I mean no disrespect to you. You and I are betrothed and that is all there is to say on the matter."

Prince Chalcon looked out at the view from the window, his eyes distant. He was clearly choosing his next words with some care.

"Perhaps," he began, "you might find that your affection for this other man may wane with time and you may learn to transfer that affection… and dare I say love… to another… to me."

"Perhaps," Ariadne acknowledged. "I will try to do my duty to my city… and to you."

"I have been too forwards," the young man berated himself. "I do not wish to rush you or to make you uncomfortable. I meant what I said. I truly do want you to be happy. Our betrothal is one more move in my father's game. I know it is not a love match. All I ask for now is that you allow me to be your friend in the days to come… and that I be allowed to hope that one day you might feel more than distant friendship for me."

"I have had so few true friends," Ariadne murmured, half to herself. "It's hard for me to know who to trust."

Chalcon gently turned her to face him and took her hand in his own.

"You can trust me," he said earnestly, sincerity brimming in his blue eyes. "I will do everything in my power not to let you down."

* * *

Night had fallen quickly over Athanos. The western gate of the town had finally fallen at dusk and the Amphigeneian forces had swarmed into the city like locusts, killing the men of the town indiscriminately. The women, on the other hand, were dragged away by the soldiers, either into or behind buildings. Most of them did not return.

At the edge of the plain before the town, Jason waited with Hercules for Pythagoras to re-join them. They had taken the decision earlier to hide their bags and supplies so that they could travel quicker across the plain. The young genius had volunteered to hide everything in a small ravine they had found.

Finally together and all ready, they set out across the plain. At first they moved slowly and quietly, on the alert for any enemy sentries – still hoping to make it into Athanos unseen. As they got closer to the shattered gateway they picked up speed, trying to use the element of surprise to get them through the enemy lines before anyone could realise they were not Amphigeneian officers and react accordingly. It was a wild and reckless plan to be honest, but it had been the only one they could come up with. Amazingly it worked and they galloped through the gate of the town with no more than a token shout behind them to ask them to identify themselves.

The situation in the town was desperate for the citizens. Everywhere you looked there were bodies. On the far side of a square, an Amphigeneian officer, his lips drawn back in a feral snarl of triumph, plunged his sword into the prone body of an unarmed man; an Atlantian soldier, marked out by his blue cloak, but weapon less. Jason forced himself to ignore what was going on around him, even though his fingers itched to draw his sword and fight. They had a mission to complete after all.

"Come on," he snarled, trying to keep a grip on himself. "Lord Herodion's house is this way."

Behind him, Hercules couldn't help rolling his eyes at Pythagoras in spite of the dangerous situation they were in.

The house they were aiming for was near the centre of town on the main street that crossed from north to south; the Sacred Way that seemed to be a characteristic of all Atlantian towns. For now their luck was holding and the street was deserted. The horses had been left, safely tethered, in an alleyway near the western gate and all they could hope was that the beasts would remain undiscovered until they returned to fetch them.

The sounds of battle were everywhere; coming closer and then ebbing away again; the sound of fires crackling; of metal swords clashing together; of men roaring and women screaming. As they approached the front of the house, an Amphigeneian soldier appeared in front of Jason. He raised his sword to strike at the young man. Before the Amphigeneian could strike down, however, Jason reacted, bringing his own sword up from his side and stabbing it into his enemy's stomach. Pulling it free, he turned to his friends.

"Let's get inside," he said.

As he had expected, the door to the house was locked but swiftly sprang open when he put his shoulder to it. Jason darted inside, his friends hard on his heels, only to skid to an abrupt stop just before he impaled himself on an outstretched sword. He looked down at the tip, resting firmly against his chest, and at the unwavering hand holding the weapon, and then up into a pair of steely grey eyes staring back at him.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N So here I am at last with chapter 16. I'm sorry (once again) for the delay that there's been with the last few chapters. Real life isn't really conducive to writing at the moment.

Anyway. Thank you all for the reviews and your kind words of encouragement. I hope you're all still enjoying my ramblings :-)

* * *

For a few tense moments nobody moved. Then Jason took a step backwards, raising his hands placatingly, his sword held loosely between thumb and fingers with its tip pointing at the floor.

"Lord Herodion?" he asked.

"Who are you?" the older man growled, still keeping his sword pointed at Jason.

"We mean you no harm," Jason said earnestly. "King Minos sent us to protect you and your family."

The man opposite him lowered his sword.

"Minos is alive?" he demanded.

"Yes," Jason replied. "Alive and well."

"And the Queen and Princess?"

"They are with him," Jason confirmed. "As is the Oracle of Poseidon."

"Thank the Gods," the older man breathed. "When we heard Atlantis had fallen I feared the worst." He chuckled. "I should have known that wily old fox would be alright."

"He sent us here because he needs your advice," Jason continued. "He asked us to rescue you and escort you to him."

"Which is all very well but if we don't leave soon we're not going to get out at all," Hercules growled, peering through a gap in the door. "They're starting to drag people out of their houses."

"The King has plans for regaining Atlantis," Jason went on, ignoring Hercules. "He asks for your help."

"And he will have it willingly," Lord Herodion replied.

"Athanos has fallen," Jason stated. "If we are to escape we must leave now."

"Of course," the older man answered. "I will fetch my wife and son… I have a few small saddle bags packed, if you would assist me…"

"You have horses?" Jason asked, moving forwards and temporarily sheathing his sword.

"Yes," Lord Herodion replied. "I saddled them earlier in case we had the chance to escape. They are stabled at the back of the house."

"Good," Jason replied. "We will have to lead them through the town if we can. Our own horses are hidden near the gates."

"Very well," the older man replied. "Then let us go."

He turned and moved back into the house, intent on fetching his family and belongings.

Jason moved after him, fighting the urge to cough sharply. The smoke from the burning town had irritated his throat and the run through the streets had left him more out of breath than he was used to. He must be out of condition, he decided with some irritation; living with the royal family for the past few weeks was making him soft.

In the doorway to the room he stopped, uncertain whether he should follow Lord Herodion or not. Would it be construed as bad manners to enter the family rooms even under the present circumstances? Jason cast a glance over his shoulder, seeking unspoken reassurance from his friends.

Hercules was still guarding the door they had entered through, his back turned towards the room and his friends. Pythagoras, on the other hand, was watching Jason with faintly discernible anxiety. His gaze was steady but his expression was nervous. Jason supposed that he could understand it. After all, Athanos was hardly the safest place to be right now and they still had to escape with the family they had come here to escort to safety.

Time seemed to drag interminably as they waited for the return of Lord Herodion with his family and belongings – although, in reality, only a few minutes had passed since they had entered the house. Jason paced back and forth restlessly, still uncertain whether he should have followed the master of the house, as Pythagoras sank down onto a bench and Hercules still watched the street.

"This is madness," the burly wrestler groused. "Every moment we linger here makes it more likely we'll be caught and killed."

"I know," Jason admitted.

"We need to leave as quickly as we can," Hercules growled.

"Then let us be away with all speed," Lord Herodion's deep voice rumbled from the doorway.

The older man had heavy looking saddlebags thrown over each shoulder and a third in his arms. He ushered his wife and son into the room ahead of him as the other three men turned to look at him.

Lord Herodion's wife was a small and delicate looking blonde woman. She was obviously much younger than her husband. Her eyes flicked over the three men judgementally; taking in their worn clothing and battered weaponry with a disapproving frown; clearly dismissing them as peasants and not worth her attention.

Jason sighed internally. If there was one thing he particularly hated about this time period (and there _were_ a few things no matter how happy he was here generally) it was the fact that social hierarchy was so utterly rigid; that you could be judged as a lesser being somehow just for the way you looked or dressed. He sighed internally again. It hadn't been all that different in the world he had grown up in he supposed, but somehow the prejudices seemed more entrenched here. Still, he had learned to deal with people looking down on him for a variety of reasons. In the end it really didn't matter what Lord Herodion's wife thought of him or his friends; it only mattered that they should fulfil the mission they had been sent here to undertake and get this family safely to Pagenia.

"This is my wife, Ianthe," Lord Herodion rumbled, gesturing awkwardly to the disapproving woman; struggling under the weight of the bags on his shoulders.

Jason took that as his cue to relieve the man of his burdens, placing the bags on the table for a moment.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, My Lady," the young brunette murmured.

"Yes," the woman answered coldly. "I would imagine it would be." She turned to her husband. "These are no Atlantian soldiers," she remarked, her eyes flicking between Jason and Pythagoras. "Is our King in the habit of sending boys to do a man's job?"

"My Love," Herodion began placatingly.

"They are no more than peasants," his wife declared sharply. "Are we to trust our lives to them?"

"King Minos sent us to escort you to safety because he believed we would have more chance of helping you to escape from Athanos undetected than regular soldiers would," Jason answered softly. "We have a certain amount of experience between us." He paused for a moment. "I was named as the King's champion several weeks ago," he admitted, a little reluctantly. It still felt more than a little odd to be saying that; felt as though he was boasting in some way.

"You?" Ianthe snorted incredulously. "No wonder Atlantis was lost to the Amphigeneians if King Minos had taken to naming a peasant as his champion."

"Peace Ianthe," Herodion growled. He turned back to Jason and his friends. "Please… do not think we are ungrateful. For the King to have sent his men to help us to escape Athanos at a time when his concentration must naturally be on the challenges ahead… it was good of him… and I will be grateful for your protection. I cannot imagine that Minos would have named you as champion without good reason. He is too astute for that."

"Can we hurry this up," Hercules hissed urgently from the doorway. He shot a glare at Jason. "In case you hadn't noticed there are Amphigeneian soldiers out there killing anything that moves. We need to leave _now_ … before they spot us."

"Hercules!" Jason admonished. He turned back to the family in front of him. "Forgive us, My Lord," he said softly. "I realise that this is all very sudden and that I'm asking you to trust us to protect you and get you to safety when you don't actually know anything about us, but we really do need to leave."

"Do not concern yourself," Herodion answered. "I fully understand the need for haste and your friend is correct… we _must_ leave now. I would, however, ask to know the names of my travelling companions."

"I'm Jason," Jason replied. "And these are my friends, Hercules and Pythagoras," he added, gesturing towards his companions.

Lord Herodion inclined his head.

"I am grateful to you all," he said. "As I said, this is my wife Ianthe… and this is my son, Iollas."

He pointed to a boy of no more than fifteen; not tall but already showing signs of being stocky, although the softness in his face and limbs betrayed the fact that this boy had lived a comfortable life. He had his mother's blonde hair, but little of her apparent delicacy, and his father's slightly coarser features. He also looked ridiculously excited by the whole situation, his hand clutching the hilt of a clearly expensive sword.

Jason exchanged a glance with Pythagoras, trying hard not to roll his eyes. They really didn't have time for all these introductions after all. He fought the urge to cough again and wondered if there was any way he could get a drink of water to soothe his throat without his sharp-eyed, mathematically inclined friend noticing; not wanting Pythagoras to see how tight his chest was right now and drawing inevitable (and to Jason's mind unnecessary) conclusions.

"Let's go," he growled, trying to mask the 'needing to cough' hoarse note in his voice with gruffness.

From the narrowing of Pythagoras' eyes he didn't think he had completely succeeded.

In the doorway, Hercules motioned them out with a brusque wave of his hand.

"It's clear for the minute," the burly wrestler stated seriously. "They've just gone into the house over there." He gestured vaguely at the building opposite.

"Kapys' house," Lord Herodion rumbled sadly.

A loud crash was heard from the house Hercules had pointed out followed by the cry of a man which broke off suddenly. Herodion winced and took a step forwards, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"I do not think you can help them, My Lord," Pythagoras stated softly. "And you have a wife and son to protect."

The older man glanced at him before turning to look at his family. His shoulders slumped in resignation.

"You are right of course," he murmured. "I just wish…" He broke off and looked away again.

"We need to hurry. The Amphigeneians could come back out at any moment," Hercules muttered urgently.

Jason nodded as he hefted one of the saddle bags onto his shoulder.

"We need to get your horses," he said. "How do we get to your stables?"

"There is a passageway down the side of the house, leading to the stables at the back," Herodion answered.

The street that they stepped out into was eerily quiet for the moment, the distant sounds of the town being sacked coming through to them on the breeze. Hercules lumbered off down the passageway Lord Herodion had indicated, following the overeager Iollas to fetch the family's horses with Pythagoras in tow.

They were gone a matter of moments and returned leading three beautifully bred and groomed horses, the heavy saddlebags Lord Herodion had wished to bring with him slung across their backs.

Jason licked his lips thoughtfully and drew his sword once more, holding it reasonably loosely but ready to react at a second's notice. He nodded to his friends and set off at a trot, eyes everywhere, trying to seek out every potential threat. Behind him, Pythagoras, Hercules and young Iollas continued to lead the family's horses.

"Why are we walking when we have perfectly good horses?" Lady Ianthe's voice sounded inordinately loud.

"Shh," Jason hissed with some irritation. The last thing they needed right now was to draw unwanted attention to themselves after all.

"I will not be shushed by a retainer," the woman flared.

Jason flicked a glare back over his shoulder. He was wound up tighter than a coiled spring at the moment; his 'fight or flight' instinct kicking in.

"This is madness." He heard Hercules grousing quietly to Pythagoras. "If she doesn't keep her voice down we'll all be caught. We're risking our lives to save a spoiled, rich woman who doesn't even appreciate it."

"We're risking our lives because the King needs us to," Jason hissed. "I gave him my word and I'm not about to let him down if I can help it."

Lord Herodion looked at him oddly, before turning back to his wife.

"These men are right my love," he murmured softly. "We must be as quiet as possible and try not to draw attention to ourselves if we are to escape Athanos unscathed. That is why we are leading the horses and that is why we must not speak loudly or unnecessarily. No doubt we will be riding soon enough once we have left the town."

His wife grumbled softly to herself for a moment but lapsed into silence shortly afterwards.

The group moved on as silently as possible through streets lit by the fires of burning buildings, the air heavy with smoke and ash; the roar of battle and screams of dying men coming loudly from the surrounding streets. Suddenly a group of enemy soldiers burst from a side alley and headed straight towards them at a run, swords drawn.

"Hercules!" Jason yelled urgently, moving to intercept the first adversary.

Adrenaline was making his heart pound as he met the attack; moving instinctively; kicking, thrusting, parrying and blocking with relative ease. The Amphigeneian soldier went down and Jason moved on to the next one. Alongside him Hercules was hacking and slicing with his usual efficiency, kicking a body off his blade. At the back of the little group Lord Herodion had drawn his sword and joined the melee, displaying the skills of an old warrior. The head-butt he delivered to his opponent before despatching the man with his blade was quite impressive.

"Pythagoras!" Hercules' shout made Jason turn.

Pythagoras, it seemed, had been momentarily distracted trying to control the horses and an enemy soldier had come up behind him. Whirling around at Hercules' cry, he fumbled to draw his sword. He finally succeeded as the Amphigeneian arced his sword down towards the young genius, managing to fend off the blow with a desperate block before fully engaging in the fight. While he would perhaps never be quite as proficient with a sword as either one of his friends, the situations they had found themselves in over the last year had at least given him enough practise that he could now hold his own in a fight.

Iollas had watched the skirmish with growing excitement. He'd been taught the art of sword play from an early age (in spite of his mother's objections) but he'd never been in a real fight before. Now he finally had the chance to prove himself. As one of the enemy soldiers came close to him though, drawing near with a snarl while the rest of the company was engaged in their own battles, Iollas found his mouth growing dry, the hilt of his sword slipping beneath his suddenly sweaty palm as his grip on the weapon loosened. His mouth worked soundlessly as the soldier bore down on him and he froze in place.

"Iollas!" His father's voice came to him over the noise of battle; bringing him back to himself and forcing him to move.

Iollas clumsily blocked a series of blows, his sword slipping more and more in his grasp, defending himself uncertainly as he was forced back into an alleyway by his attacker. Ducking a blow, his heel caught on a piece of debris and knocked him off balance. Seeing this the enemy soldier took advantage, thrusting him backwards with a shove. Iollas fell; landing on his back on the hard ground with the air knocked out of him and his sword on the floor beside him, looking helplessly up at the soldier above him and about to strike but unable to do anything to block the inevitable blow.

Suddenly the soldier fell forwards, sword dropping out of his now lax hand, and landed half on top of Iollas. The boy stared in shock for a moment at the knife hilt that protruded from between his attacker's shoulder blades before turning his eyes to the open end of the alleyway. The young man who had identified himself as Jason back at Iollas' house was standing in the opening, his sword now held in his left hand and the knife sheath attached to the lacings on his breastplate conspicuously empty of its blade.

In an instant he was at Iollas' side, helping the boy to push the body of the dead Amphigeneian off himself and grabbing his wrist firmly to pull him to his feet. Once Iollas was standing on his own two feet Jason reached down and wrenched the knife from the back of the soldier, wiping it roughly on his trousers and thrusting it back into the sheath at his side. He nodded to Iollas and moved to re-join the others.

"Iollas," Ianthe breathed as her son came to her side. "You saved him," she turned to Jason gratefully. "How can we ever thank you?"

Jason ducked his head a little, embarrassed at the attention.

"We should head for the west gate," he stated. "Our own horses are hidden there."

Without waiting for a reply (knowing that no reply was actually needed) he set off again, the rest of the party in tow.

* * *

Prince Chalcon sat on the flat roof of the house he and his father were staying in looking out across the roofs of the town to the sea. With so many kings and their retinues here it had not been possible to house them all within the walls of the royal estate and so the nobility of Pagenia had been called upon to open their doors and provide the best rooms for the visitors.

The night was still. High in the sky the stars twinkled brightly and the moon was very full; shining its' pale light down and dappling sea with spots of bright light where it hit the waves.

Chalcon drank in the night air and the tranquillity of the scene before him, allowing it to calm his tumbling thoughts. What his father was doing – forcing him into a marriage with Princess Ariadne – was unfair. Of course Chalcon had always known deep down that his father would select his bride for him and that he would be expected to marry for the benefit of Tanagra and yet he had hoped in vain that he might be allowed some say in the proceedings.

Ariadne _was_ very beautiful, it had to be said, and would undoubtedly make a good and dutiful wife – the sort of wife any prince (particularly a younger son) ought to be delighted to have. Even if she was less beautiful the enticements of the kingdom she would one day inherit ought to be enough to make any man happy. Yet Chalcon could take no real joy in the match.

He sighed. He had not been entirely honest with the Princess and he was feeling guilty about it. He had told Ariadne earlier that he hoped that one day she might find herself able to transfer her affections to him but the truth was that he also hoped his affections might transfer to her, otherwise their marriage would be unbearable for both of them.

It had never been Chalcon's intention to fall in love and yet he had. The problem was that he knew it was with a woman that his father would find unacceptable; that the match would never be approved. Gods, he was such a coward! If he was any sort of man he would march into his father's chambers and inform him that, far from dutifully marrying the Atlantian Princess as he had been told to, he was going to marry the love of his life and damn the consequences.

He closed his eyes and let his head drop back. He couldn't do it. Agrias was not a reasonable man and would not accept any real rebellion from his youngest son. Chalcon feared most of all that if he were to openly declare his love for Lyra his father would seek to punish her and her entire family; that he would bring disaster and destruction down on the woman he loved. He simply couldn't risk any harm coming to her as a result of his father's harsh nature and unpredictable temper.

Lyra. A smile rose unbidden to his lips as her well-loved face came into his mind. She was as different from Princess Ariadne as the day was from the night but to Chalcon's eyes no less beautiful.

He had met her quite literally by accident some two years ago now. She was the daughter of a minor noble house in Tanagra – a family who were not of sufficient social status to be part of the court – and as such they should never really have met. Chalcon had been on a hunting trip near to her family's estate when his horse had been spooked by a snake and he had been thrown from his saddle. Knocked unconscious in the fall, he had been taken to the nearest house of sufficient status to receive a prince.

Once he had recovered his wits a physician had been called. An injury to his shoulder had meant that he could not ride and the doctor had recommended rest and recuperation; had suggested he should remain where he was for a short time until he was fully recovered.

It was during this enforced confinement in her father's house that Chalcon had met Lyra. She was pretty in an unconventional way and definitely not one of the simpering, subservient girls he was used to. There was a spark of fire in her that he had found intriguing, although Chalcon had to admit that at first he had seen her as overly opinionated, wilful and too independent by half. He had been anxious to recover and leave both the dubious comforts of her home and the disconcerting way she seemed to judge him with her eyes and find him wanting. In all honesty, the estate where Lyra lived with her family was comfortable but not as luxurious as Chalcon had been used to and he had not bothered to hide his displeasure at being forced to stay there.

Sitting in the darkness on the roof of the house in Pagenia, the young prince shook his head ruefully at his own behaviour back at the time he and Lyra had met. He'd been spoiled all his life; given good morals by his mother and tutors (certainly better morals than his father seemed to have) but indulged in a way his older brothers hadn't been. He had been rude, arrogant and disparaging; really it was a wonder that Lyra had ever forgiven him.

As time had gone on and he had recovered, however, Chalcon had found himself finding excuses to linger in Lyra's home for just a little longer. A few days had turned into a few weeks and before anyone knew it nearly two months had passed. It had been a surprise to discover that he loved his beautiful, complicated girl, and even more of a surprise to discover that she felt the same way about him too.

He would have been content to stay there at her side forever, but eventually a message from his father (frustrated beyond endurance at his son's repeated excuses about why he just could not leave yet) had arrived, demanding that he either returned home instantly or Agrias would send his personal physician to enquire about his son's health. There had been an implied threat about what would happen if Chalcon were caught malingering.

As it was, the young Prince had taken the hint and scuttled back to the royal palace at Tanagra; returning to his father's side like a good hunting dog, he thought bitterly.

Ever since then though, he had taken every opportunity to get away; to return to Lyra's side even in the face of her own family's disapproval. He supposed he could understand their fears. Deep down he had always known that nothing good could really come of their relationship. He could not marry her after all; his father would never permit him to marry a girl who he considered to be so far socially inferior – in Agrias' eyes it would be akin to his son marrying a peasant. It was unfair of him, he supposed, to carry on professing his love for Lyra; if any hint of impropriety between them was suspected her reputation would be ruined and her chances of a good marriage would be wrecked.

Lyra had told him herself that she knew they could never be together properly. It had been just a few weeks ago and had been the last time he had seen her before his father had sent word, summoning him here to Pagenia. They had argued (not an unusual occurrence if Chalcon was being honest, given Lyra's fiery nature) and now he wished that they had parted on better terms given that it seemed likely that he would never see her again.

Hindsight was a wonderful thing, he decided cynically.

The thought of never seeing Lyra again – of never taking her in his arms again – caused him immeasurable pain and yet Chalcon couldn't see any other outcome. He couldn't think of a single reason to refuse his father's demands to marry Ariadne without betraying his love for Lyra – and that would never do. Agrias would not be forgiving. Chalcon firmly believed that if his father found out about Lyra it would essentially be signing her death warrant.

He couldn't let that happen. He had to keep his beautiful girl safe.

Which brought him right back to marrying a girl who seemed pleasant enough but who he had no feelings for whatsoever; for Lyra's safety he would have to put her from his mind; would have to feign love for Ariadne and do as his father bid.

He had been honest enough when he had said he wanted to be Ariadne's friend and to make things as easy for her as he could. The Gods knew he had few enough true friends himself. He had no real allies in his father's court either back in Tanagra or amongst the retinue here in Pagenia. If he and the Atlantian Princess could support and help one another then life might at least be marginally bearable.

Yes, he would do as he was told and pay court to Princess Ariadne – would marry her as his father expected – even if his heart was breaking inside.

* * *

The Oracle opened her eyes with a gasp, pupils still blown wide from the vision she had been attempting to focus on just a few moments before. That vision had been shrouded in darkness though in a way she had rarely experienced. Everything was unclear; hazy; moving at a speed that she could not follow. The future was changing and changing again from moment to moment and for once she had no real idea what course it would take. It left her feeling vulnerable – almost blind – and yet there was a sense of dark foreboding to everything that disturbed her.

Of course, the path of the future was never completely set – no matter what she generally told people when she spoke of her visions. It was easier to make them believe that there was only one possible future, one possible reality to contend with. In reality things were rarely so simple. Most of the time the most obvious course of the future was clear, but even so she saw many possible versions, many possible outcomes that could hinge on the smallest of actions or decisions.

She shuddered slightly and pushed herself to her feet, pacing around the room, her mind in turmoil. For the last few days she had felt the presence of Poseidon strongly – oh so strongly – yet her dreams were clouded in shadow. It frustrated her beyond measure.

 _Jason_.

His name came to her mind, whispered on the wind as it had the day he had arrived in Atlantis. Yes. So many forces and futures were revolving around him. Darkness surrounded him. She could see it in her mind's eye even now. She shuddered again.

One thing was absolutely clear to her.

Change was coming and the Oracle feared what that change might be.

* * *

The cave was never warm no matter how big a fire she built to heat it. The damp and cold seemed to reside in the very rocks themselves and penetrated her bones. Or perhaps it was not the cave. Perhaps it was a coldness that came from deep within her soul.

The silence still bothered her, even after all these months. No living creature dared to come near her cave and she would have run from any that did, fearing what she would do to them; fearing what her curse would make her do.

The hissing susurration of the snakes that wreathed around her head was her only companion and often she felt as though she was going to go mad. Or was she already mad? Had her sanity departed months ago?

She had survived on seaweed scavenged from the shoreline and on such fruit and berries as she could find without going too far from her cave ever since she had come here, moving from the shores of Cisthene almost as soon as Hercules and his two friends had gone; fearing that the burly wrestler would come back alone and try to sacrifice himself for her again.

It had been so long since she had spoken to another living soul – since she had heard a friendly voice directed towards her – that she had almost forgotten what it felt like. The happy life she had briefly known in Atlantis seemed almost like a dream.

There were times when she dreamt of the home and friends she had been forced to leave behind. They were such pleasant dreams. In them she was still living a normal life; working in the Palace kitchens; loving and being loved by Hercules; happy in the knowledge that she had friends who cared for her. At first the dreams had made her sad as she remembered all she had lost. Often she had been driven to tears as the happy world of her dreams had receded and the lonely horror of her present existence had reasserted itself. Now though she clung to them whenever they came; clung to the memories that she had once been _more_ than she was now; had been cared for and wanted.

The dreams drove away the ever present despair – even if it was only for a little while. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt truly happy; had forgotten what it felt like to laugh at a joke or even just to smile.

There were days when she was angry – so angry. She had done _nothing_ to deserve this fate. The Gods were punishing her and yet she had done nothing wrong. At times she found herself mentally conjuring up the shades of the people she had known and blaming them for her misfortunes; throwing harsh words at imaginary people. At those times she would blame Hercules and his friends for this whole mess (even if she knew it was not really their fault); screaming in anger at the bulky wrestler for not finding her and saving her (although she had deliberately hidden herself away where Hercules could not find her).

He had promised to find a cure but she no longer really believed it was possible. There were times when it felt like she had been utterly abandoned; forgotten by those she once believed cared; left to rot.

There was enough of the girl she had been left inside her to know that she was being unfair; that she would never want to risk Hercules' life to save her own.

She looked at her meagre fire and sighed. It was burning low and she had no more wood in the cave. If she wished to keep it burning she would need to go out and scavenge for driftwood. It was night-time so the chances of meeting another living creature were slim. She pushed herself to her feet and moved towards the entrance.

Outside the cave the cold night air caught at her, chilling her bones even more. The dress that she wore – now more of a rag than a recognisable garment – did little to protect her from the cold. Her sandals were worn through in places and the rocks that she found herself scrambling over in her search for fuel for the fire poked through, cutting and bruising her feet.

The search for driftwood took her further from her cave than she usually liked to go. The night was peaceful though; the silence only broken by the sound of waves lapping gently at the shore. She wandered further afield, allowing the peace of the night to pervade her.

There wasn't much wood to be found along the shoreline tonight – certainly not enough to get her through the night. It was late but she knew that sleep was still a long way off and she had no desire to be any colder than she had to be. Plus, it would be nice to make sure she had enough to see her through the next few days if possible – she tried to go out as little as she could, not wanting to risk any other living creature being turned to stone through a chance encounter. Even the rats avoided her usually. Not that she minded to be honest; her conscience was already weighed down by the souls whose lives she had inadvertently taken without adding any more to it.

If she was to find enough wood to carry her through the next few days she would need to venture further inland. Fortunately, perhaps, the woods came almost to the shore here so she still wouldn't need to go too far. Leaving the tiny bundle of driftwood she had collected in her cave, she made her way back outside and began the steep climb up the cliff path to the headland at the top, having to stop here and there to scramble over small rock falls that blocked her path, caused by the winter storms that had been lashing the coastline for weeks.

On the headland at the top she paused and looked out across the moonlit sea. Once upon a time she would have seen the beauty in the view but now she saw little beauty in anything; little hope. Her cave at least had the advantage of being isolated, she supposed. There were few people living along this particular stretch of coastline – it was too remote for most people. The nearest settlement was apparently a small town called Pagenia, and that was several hours ride away on a good horse and more than a day on foot.

She had learned this by accident of course. A group of fishermen had ridden out a storm on her beach early in the winter. They had not ventured into her cave – preferring to shelter under the hull of their upturned little boat – and had never known the danger they could have been in. She had lurked in the darkness near the entrance to the cave, so hungry to hear voices that she had listened to every word of their prattling. They had talked of the homes they were looking forwards to returning to, gossiping like old women about people that they knew, mentioning local landmarks to each other in the stories that they told, and, above all, talking about the location of the nearest settlement where they could sell the catch they hoped to land once the storm was over.

She had known that she was a reasonable distance from any civilisation out here of course (it was what she had intended after all) but it was still nice to have it confirmed. Much as she missed other people desperately (and sometimes she feared that the loneliness of her situation was driving her insane), she was still terrified that someone might someday stumble upon her, and she would have to deal with the guilt of another death.

No, it seemed it was her fate to live out the rest of her life alone in silence that sometimes threatened to crush her.

She sighed and turned away from the sea view, making her way into the silent woods. Nothing seemed to move in the still air. It was as though she was completely alone in the world; the only creature left alive. It was a disturbing feeling (although one which she felt all too often) and she hurried to gather up the small fallen branches she found into a bundle.

Moving swiftly, she came into a small clearing, eyes still searching the ground for suitable pieces of wood. Her snakes hissed in angry surprise, alerting her to the fact that she was no longer alone, and she looked up in time to see a man in front of her. She just had time to register the fact that he was young, the shape of the helmet on his head and the blue of his cloak giving away the fact that he was an Atlantian soldier, before he began to change, his body turning to stone from the feet up in a matter of seconds. She stared at him for a moment, the face fixed in a horrified expression, the hands raised defensively in front of his face in a vain attempt to ward away his cruel fate, every detail of his being burning itself into her mind.

Then she turned and fled, dropping the bundle of sticks she had so carefully collected; desperation and despair making her move faster. No matter how fast she ran though, she knew she would never be able to outrun the horror of the young soldier's face, rendered in stone and permanently etched into her memory.

As she stumbled back down the cliff path, hot tears burning her eyes, tripping over the rock falls in her haste, a thought filtered through her distraught mind; what was an Atlantian soldier doing this far from civilisation? Were there more of them? She would have to be on her guard for the next few days; have to be prepared to run at a moment's notice. But did she really want to anymore? Sometimes she thought that the peace of death would be infinitely preferable to the hell she was living.

She could not bring herself to end her own life (to end her own suffering) but if the soldiers came perhaps it would simply be easier to give up and allow them to put her out of her misery. How many more would die at her hand before one of them managed to kill her though? She could not risk it. She could not bear the weight of any more deaths on her.

Lying down on the ragged cloak she used as a blanket, Medusa curled up into a ball and sobbed, her heart breaking once more.

* * *

It was a distinct relief to find the horses still tied up where they had been left.

"We should make for the gully where we left our supplies," Jason stated firmly to his two friends. "It's just on the other side of the plain," he explained to their other companions.

As the others mounted their horses Jason hung back, positioning himself as a rear-guard in order to defend them if necessary. As the last one of his companions mounted, he moved forwards, slipping the strap that held his sword over his head and tying it to his saddle to allow him to draw the weapon in a hurry while he was riding. He grabbed the reins, ready to untie the horse and set off.

They were in a side street near to the western gate, tucked between two of the houses that faced onto the street. All around them the sound of the battle for Athanos raged – although in reality it was really more of a massacre than a battle. A sudden scream split the night, heard above the roar of combat.

Jason turned automatically at the sound, knowing that his mounted comrades were doing the same. Further down the street a group Amphigeneian soldier were dragging a screaming girl by her wrists towards an alley. The girl could hardly be more than fifteen or so and it was clear that the soldiers only had one intent in mind.

Without even thinking about it, Jason grabbed his sword back off his horse.

"We can't save everyone," Hercules growled.

"We have to try," Jason answered urgently, an almost desperate note in his voice that neither one of his friends failed to pick up on. "Head for the gully, I'll meet you there."

He darted forwards before anyone could stop him.

"Jason!" Hercules yelled after him. "That boy's nothing but trouble," he groused to himself. "You heard him, head for the gully," he ordered his other companions with a wave of his arm in the direction of the gate.

"Hercules," Pythagoras began, his concern clear in his voice.

"I know," Hercules answered flatly. "Don't worry. I'll fetch him."

"Perhaps I should…"

"Pythagoras! You need to show them where to go." Hercules pointed at Herodion and his family. "Go!"

Pythagoras nodded tightly and dug his heels hard into his horse's sides, reins wrapped tightly around his hands as he kicked the beast into a run. The rest of the party raced out with him, heading for the gate as quickly as possible. The only advantage they would have would be in speed. The town was in chaos and the attackers had poured in from every angle, leaving very few men on the outside. If their luck held, Pythagoras should be able to lead the group away and across the plain before the enemy even knew they were there.

Hercules watched them go, even as he hurled himself down off the back of his horse and raced off after his other friend.

* * *

Jason hadn't really intended to end up in the heart of the battle and certainly hadn't intended to leave the side of the family they were supposed to be protecting. It was more that, as so often happened, his instincts kicked in and overrode his conscious thought – and there was simply no way he could walk away knowing that a young girl was about to be raped and probably killed.

Ahead of him the girl was struggling against her captors. The two holding her arms were distracted trying to maintain their grip on her and the third had his back to Jason as he prepared to force himself on her.

He was therefore taken completely by surprise by the knife that embedded itself in his back, thrown from a short distance away, and pitched forwards. The other two soldiers dropped the struggling girl's wrists as they reached for their swords, preparing to meet Jason head on as he came flying towards them. The girl stepped back with a startled gasp, suddenly and unexpectedly free.

"Run," Jason yelled at her, even as he moved to face the two soldiers.

By the time Hercules managed to catch up with his friend, the young warrior had already dispatched one enemy with a slice across the chest and was making short work of the second, stabbing up into his opponent's stomach having first elbowed the man in the face and thrown him off balance.

Hercules couldn't help but be impressed; Jason was very good with that sword these days. It still infuriated him though, just how little concern the young man had for his own well-being. This was all so unnecessary. The burly wrestler understood his friend's desire to protect others he perceived to be in need (particularly someone about to be attacked in such a horrible way, he thought grimly) and knew exactly which part of Jason's current psyche and past experiences it came from, yet he would never be able to save everyone no matter how hard he tried. Under the circumstances the best they could hope for was the small victory they were in the process of achieving: to rescue the family they had come to Athanos for and whisk them out from under the Amphigeneian noses. To linger here any longer than necessary was folly. The sooner Jason learned to know when a cause was lost the better as far as Hercules was concerned. He shook his head in rueful annoyance.

In the seconds that Hercules stood watching his friend dispatching the enemy soldier, another one burst out of an alleyway and headed straight for Jason's unprotected back. Hercules turned quickly to run to intercept them, but Jason was even quicker. He spun around, dropped to one knee and thrust out his sword, driving it straight through the man's guts. As he stood back up, eyes still on the clearly dead soldier, Hercules spoke.

"If you're done playing the hero, we have to get out of here. Now!" he growled.

He turned to run back to the horses, Jason hard on his heels. They had gone some distance down the street from where they had left the beasts – a fact which Jason had been largely unaware of before now; intent as he had been on saving the screaming girl.

As they passed a pile of haphazardly stacked crates, something caught Jason's eye and he skidded to a swift halt, staring at the pile. In front of them were the bodies of a young couple, their belongings strewn about them, obviously having been caught by the Amphigeneians trying to flee the town, their things rifled through by the looting enemy.

"Now what are you doing?" Hercules demanded, moving back to Jason's side and grabbing hold of his arm, clearly intending to drag his friend away by force if necessary.

"Shh," Jason responded sharply. "Can you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Hercules questioned, his voice harsh.

"That," Jason said as the soft sound he had heard from in amongst the crates hit his ears again.

Pulling his arm firmly from Hercules' grasp, he moved forwards towards the boxes, ignoring the burly wrestler's urgent exclamation of his name.

Crouching down, he moved the nearest of the boxes to one side and peered around them, unable to stop the soft gasp that came from his throat as he saw what was hidden behind. It was two children. The older one was a little boy of about five years old, his eyes huge and frightened. The younger was only a baby – no older than little Oedipus had been when they found him in the forest – held on the older child's lap. They had clearly been hidden here in a desperate attempt to avoid them being found by the enemy.

"It's alright," Jason said gently. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"What are you doing?" Hercules demanded from somewhere behind the young hero.

"I'm here to help you," Jason went on, ignoring his older friend and keeping his sole focus on the children in front of him.

Hercules peered around the crates himself and swore loudly.

The little boy cringed back.

"Hercules!" Jason hissed in admonishment. He turned back to the child. "This is my friend," he said softly. "He's not going to hurt you either."

He reached out gently and lifted the baby off the child's lap, holding it in one arm as he held his hand out to the little boy, sword discarded on the ground at his side.

The child stared at his hand for a moment and then scrambled out from between the boxes under his own steam. Jason couldn't help the little smile he gave at the boy's apparent independence. He pushed himself to his feet, the baby still held in one arm, scooping up his sword as he went.

Out from between the boxes, the little boy looked warily at the two men. Then he turned and saw the bodies of the young couple lying nearby. He gave a little cry and darted forwards, trying to shake the pair awake, beginning to sob. Jason swore under his breath and thrust the baby at Hercules. To do him credit, the big man took the infant without a murmur.

Sheathing his sword as quickly as he could, Jason picked up the crying child and held him on his hip, turning his face away from the death and destruction around them both into his breastplate.

"Come on," he said to Hercules. "You were right. We need to get out of here."

"What about their parents?" Hercules asked, nodding towards the children they were both holding.

"I think that's them," Jason said, indicating the dead couple at their feet. "We'll have to take them with us."

"And then what?" Hercules demanded. "Might I remind you that we have at least five days hard riding ahead of us while trying to avoid enemy soldiers. Do you really think we should be taking a baby into that? It's insanity."

"What choice do we have?" Jason retorted sharply. "Do you really think we ought to leave them here?"

"No," Hercules relented. "No we can't leave them here."

"Then come on."

Mercifully the short dash back to the horses was uninterrupted. The child in Jason's arms seemed to be beyond tears now, his eyes wide with horror. Jason set him down on his feet for a moment and reached out to take the baby from Hercules to allow the big man to mount.

"How are you planning on riding carrying a baby," Hercules demanded, still standing by his horse.

Jason grimaced. He hadn't actually thought about that. He looked about himself for inspiration. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a piece of cloth blowing slightly in the breeze. Quickly he moved across and grabbed it. It seemed to be large enough for his needs – something he was inordinately grateful for. Still clutching the baby to his chest he tried awkwardly to wrap it around himself like a sling – the way that Pythagoras had done with his cloak when Jason had been preparing to take that leap off the city walls with Oedipus strapped to him.

Hercules rolled his eyes but still came forwards and took the ends of the cloth from Jason, tying the sling securely in place, the baby nestled in it. Then the burly wrestler mounted his horse, reaching down to take the apparently traumatised little boy that Jason handed up to him and settling the child in front of himself in the saddle.

Jason eyed his own horse with a frown. This was not going to be easy. He would have to angle his body as far away from the horse as he could to make sure that the baby wasn't crushed as he swung himself up into the saddle, but still make sure that he didn't overbalance and fall back off again.

In the end it took several minutes and a lot of effort to get where he needed to be. Having nearly fallen backwards several times in an effort not to crush the currently gurgling baby (and Jason had to admit that he found it a bit disconcerting and certainly distracting that the infant seemed completely happy and at ease with a complete stranger in the midst of all this noise and chaos), it had taken Hercules leaning over in his own saddle and pulling on the back of Jason's tunic to get him up onto the horse.

Jason sat there for a moment, trying to get his breath back. Yes, he was definitely a little out of condition, he decided. After all it wasn't so very long ago that he had been able to run through the streets of Atlantis, somersault around a pole onto the roof of a building and then jump from rooftop to rooftop for what seemed like half the night without ever once getting out of breath. He'd have to train a little harder when he got back to Pagenia to get himself back to the fitness level he was used to.

"Let's go," he said.

* * *

Pythagoras couldn't help but pace up and down at the edge of the gully where he had led the others. Where in the name of the Gods were Jason and Hercules? Surely they should be here by now? He worried at one fingernail absently. What if something had happened to them? What should he do for the best? Every instinct was telling him to find his friends but if he did that would mean abandoning Lord Herodion and his family to their own devices.

He tried to peer across the plain once more towards the still burning town. In the dark of the night Athanos was lit up like a beacon. Behind him, Lord Herodion and his wife and son were tucked out of sight waiting for the others to join them so they could move on.

Finally, the sound that Pythagoras had been waiting for came out of the darkness – the sound of horses' hooves. Whoever it was was moving fast across the plain towards where the young mathematician was waiting. But was it Hercules and Jason? Or was it a stray Amphigeneian patrol? If it was the latter, then Pythagoras wasn't entirely sure what he would do. He wasn't a natural warrior after all and hardly thought he would be able to fight off a patrol on his own – or even with Lord Herodion's help for that matter.

He gulped and tried to melt back into the darkness of the gully.

"Pythagoras," Hercules' hissed greeting was definitely welcome. "Where are you?"

Pythagoras hurried forwards.

"Here," he responded softly.

"Thank the Gods," Hercules replied. "I thought we were never going to get away from that dratted town. No thanks to some of us," he added with a glower at Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes and slid down from the saddle, arms protectively around a bundle that appeared to be tied to his chest.

"What do you have there?" Pythagoras asked curiously.

"A smaller one of these," Hercules growled, handing a little boy down from his saddle to the startled mathematician.

"It's a child," Pythagoras said in astonishment.

"Well spotted Pythagoras," Hercules replied sarcastically. "What gave it away?"

"Hercules," Jason admonished. He sounded both slightly frustrated and tired.

Pythagoras frowned, wondering if he needed to keep an eye on his younger friend.

"Where did the children come from?" he enquired, still holding onto the small boy.

"Well," Hercules began with a sudden grin, "when a man and a woman meet and fall in love they start to look at each other in a special way..."

"Yes, thank you Hercules," Pythagoras retorted primly. "I know all about the mechanics of where children come from. What I meant was, where did these specific children come from?"

"Ask him," Hercules answered, jerking his thumb towards Jason.

Pythagoras turned expectantly towards the young hero.

"We found them near the bodies of their parents," Jason murmured. "I couldn't leave them there."

"And that is why you are the noblest of all of us," Pythagoras responded gently, touching his friend's arm.

"It is indeed noble." Lord Herodion's voice came out of the darkness. "Yet I question the practicality of such a gesture."

"They would have died if we'd left them there," Jason answered.

"Oh I did not say that I disagreed with your actions," Herodion replied. "I applaud your sentiments. It is simply that I do not see how we can travel for any distance with two children of such a young age."

"We will manage," Lady Ianthe's voice rang out firmly.

She stepped forwards and looked at the baby still cradled within the makeshift sling against Jason's chest with barely concealed longing, the light of the full moon showing her expression clearly.

"Ianthe," Herodion began.

"We cannot abandon them to certain death," Ianthe declared forcefully. She moved back into the gully to where her horse was standing and removed a garment from the bag slung across her saddle, using a knife to slice it into pieces without a murmur.

"What are you doing?" Herodion asked.

"We will need cloths for the babe," his wife replied.

"My Love, surely you can see that this is impossible?" Herodion asked. "We have fled our home. Left everything behind barring what is in the bags on the horses. We do not even know where we are going to."

"Pagenia," Jason interjected softly. "The King is waiting for you there."

Lord Herodion turned towards him.

"Pagenia," he murmured. "So that is where the old fox has holed up."

"Yes," Jason answered. "His allies have joined him there and we are gathering forces."

Herodion looked at him shrewdly.

"Who are you really?" he asked. "You are not simply a servant of the King."

"I am the King's champion as I said back in Athanos," Jason replied. "I am here to serve my city and its King."

Herodion searched his face for a moment before nodding.

"So, we go to Pagenia then."

"We do," Jason replied.

"Pagenia is a long way from here."

"At least five days," Jason agreed, "and that's if we push hard."

"And with young children with us we will not be able to ride hard," Herodion retorted matter-of-factly. He turned back to his wife. "It is possible that we can take the boy," he said softly, "although the journey will be made more difficult by it… but the baby…" he shook his head. "We cannot take the baby."

Beside him, Pythagoras felt Jason tense and knew his friend was about to argue.

"I will take care of the babe," Lady Ianthe answered resolutely. "I will take care of both the children."

"We do not even have the means to feed the babe," Herodion argued. "Such a young child will not even have been weaned yet. We have no means of feeding it and I have no wish to see the child starve to death."

"Then what do you suggest _My Lord_?" Jason demanded. "That we should take the baby back to Athanos for the Amphigeneians to murder? Or should we expose it out here for the wild animals to tear to pieces?"

"Jason," Hercules growled.

"It's barbaric," Jason snapped. "And I will _never_ understand how any apparently _civilised_ society can agree to it."

"You need not concern yourself," Lady Ianthe said moving forwards once more and taking the baby off Jason. "We will not be leaving either of these children behind."

"Ianthe, the baby will need milk," her husband began. "We do not have the means of providing that."

"We will not need to," Ianthe responded serenely. "When Iollas was born I was unwell for a time afterwards and my milk did not come," she went on, addressing the others on the party. "Our servants tried to find a wet nurse but there was no-one suitable. He was fed on goats' milk fortified with herbs and as he grew older we added the juice of certain fruits as well. This little one is old enough to tolerate juice. There are trees in the woods surrounding Athanos where these fruits might be found. It is not ideal and, once we reach Pagenia, we will need to seek a wet nurse or at least find a goat, but the baby will at least survive until then with little harm." She looked down at the infant in her arms, her face softening from the superior expression she had had ever since Jason and his friends had met her. "I will look after the children as if they were my own."

Lord Herodion sighed, clearly realising that he was beaten.

"I still think it's folly," he said, "but we will take the little ones with us to Pagenia."

Jason nodded.

"Very well," he said. "Let's get started then. We shouldn't really linger too long this close to Athanos. If we ride now, we should be deep in the woods by dawn. We can stop and rest then."

Lord Herodion inclined his head.

"Lead the way," he said.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N Hello again (finally!). Well here we are at Chapter 17. There's been a delay with the production of this chapter but at least we're here now. Unfortunately real life hasn't exactly been conducive to writing of late - and, unfortunately, I can see that continuing at the beginning of next year. There will be a bit of a delay with the next chapter anyway because I have two minimum ten thousand word stories to produce by the end of January (there's a deadline on them). I wanted to get this chapter out before Christmas though and to let you know that I am still here and am still writing!

Anyway, on with this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it.

* * *

Dawn broke, pale and wan, as the group rode slowly and cautiously through the woods, trying to keep all noise to a minimum in case any stray enemy soldiers might be nearby. Not that that seemed likely to be honest. There had been no sign whatsoever of any Amphigeneian activity in the vicinity since they left Athanos some six or seven hours earlier.

Still, it didn't hurt to be careful. With Jason taking the lead and Hercules bringing up the rear, the group moved on. They were all tired – that much was obvious. The stress of their escape from Athanos followed by a night spent travelling was catching up with them. Young Iollas was drooping in his saddle, clearly having difficulty staying awake, and the rest of them weren't much better.

Pythagoras gently kicked his horse forwards to bring himself level with his younger friend.

"Jason," he said quietly once he was alongside. "Perhaps we should stop for a time."

Jason glanced back over his shoulder at the party.

"I was planning on stopping fairly soon," he answered equally quietly. "I was thinking that we could get a couple of hours' rest now and then carry on until nightfall. We need to find somewhere suitable and safe… tucked out of the way… just in case."

Pythagoras nodded.

"That's a good plan," he approved.

"Glad you like it," Jason replied with a sudden grin.

They continued in silence for a few minutes, both looking around for an appropriate place to rest for a few hours. Glancing off to one side, Jason's eyes narrowed as he spotted what might be a good place through the trees. He pulled up on the reins of his horse, bringing it to a gradual stop. Pythagoras stopped alongside him, aware that behind them everyone else was doing the same thing.

Jason slipped down from the saddle and grabbed his sword.

"I think I might have just seen a good spot. Wait here," he said to Pythagoras before slipping off through the trees on silent feet.

"What's going on?" Hercules demanded tensely, coming to join Pythagoras. "And where is _he_ going?" He pointed after Jason.

"We need to find somewhere to rest for a while," Pythagoras explained, casting a quick glance at their weary companions. "We have ridden all night and would all benefit from sleep, even if it is only for a short while. Both Jason and I have been looking out for a suitably secluded and safe spot to stop for a time. He believes he had seen somewhere suitable and has gone to see."

Hercules nodded tightly.

"Fair enough," he replied.

Before anyone could say anything else, Jason slipped back through the trees and joined them.

"Right," he said. "There's a little gully over there where we can rest for a few hours. It's tucked out of sight so we should be safe enough and there's a small stream at the far end where we can refill our water skins." He turned to look at Lord Herodion. "We'll get a couple of hours sleep now and then ride until nightfall."

"That is a good plan," Herodion approved, glancing briefly at his wife and son.

Despite his opposition to the children's presence, the small boy who had been rescued from Athanos was sat in front of him in his saddle, his cloak wrapped around the child for warmth. The boy appeared to be sleeping. Since leaving Athanos he hadn't made a sound; just stared about himself with those wide, frightened eyes.

Lord Herodion pulled his cloak a little tighter around the child.

Jason managed to restrain himself from smiling openly – this was, after all, the man who had suggested that it was impractical and imprudent to bring the children along just a few hours before. Turning, he grabbed the reins of his horse and led the small party through the trees and into the gully he had found.

It was peaceful here, especially after the chaos of last night. The gully was small and easily defensible. As Jason had said, there was a small trickling stream at the far end which seemed to have fruit bushes nearby. The sides of the gully were steep and there was an undercut at the bottom of them which would allow them to shelter out of sight of anyone who might stand at the top.

Lord Herodion looked around and nodded his approval.

"This is a good place for us to rest," he observed.

He waited until most of the others had dismounted before handing the little boy down to Jason. The child woke up as he was being moved and looked around himself in sleepy confusion, thumb finding its way into his mouth as he rubbed at his eyes with one clenched fist. All of the adults in the group found themselves smiling automatically at the sight.

As the boy woke up properly, he wriggled to get down and dropped his head to look at the floor, his eyes still betraying his fear, showing no real interest in his surroundings. So far he had made no attempt to speak since he had been found.

"We must find out his name," Lord Herodion rumbled softly, taking the baby from his wife and helping her down from the back of her horse. "Surely the child must know it. He is more than old enough to tell us a little about himself and about the baby. If nothing else, we must ascertain that he is capable of speech. Much as I hesitate to suggest it, there are few who would take on a child with an obvious defect and surely our aim in removing him and the baby from Athanos must be to find a suitable home for both children."

Pythagoras saw both Jason and Hercules start to bristle and moved quickly to head off the situation. It would be surprising to anyone outside their trio, he suspected, to learn that Hercules felt so strongly about this sort of thing and went so much against conventional wisdom, but what they had been through with both baby Oedipus and Jason himself just three months or so ago had changed the bulky wrestler's perspective on such things – and, if he were being completely honest, his own perspective too.

"I am sure that the child will speak when he is ready, My Lord," he moved to assure Herodion. "He has been through a traumatic experience and he _is_ very young. We should make allowances for that. With everything he has seen and all the sudden changes he is likely to be very much afraid of everyone. Logic suggests that as he becomes less afraid of us he will return to normal and will begin to speak."

"Perhaps you are right," Herodion acknowledged. He sighed. "I did not mean to suggest that we should allow any harm to come to the boy," he added softly, "merely that it might take longer for us to find him a suitable home if there is a problem of this nature and that it would be better to know now so that we might be better prepared." He looked shrewdly at Pythagoras. "But you seem to know more than I would expect about such things."

Pythagoras shifted uncomfortably.

"We have a certain amount of experience with a similar situation," he admitted.

Jason shot him a sharp look, clearly not wanting him to say any more. Pythagoras twitched his lips into a reassuring smile. He had no intention of giving any secrets away to these strangers – particularly his friend's secrets. Perhaps fortunately, Lord Herodion seemed to miss the look that the two young men exchanged.

"Then I bow to your… superior knowledge," he said smoothly.

"I don't see the point in setting up camp properly," Jason murmured. "We're only going to be here for a couple of hours. Then we need to get moving. I'd like to get you to Pagenia as quickly as we can. We can stop properly and set up camp at nightfall."

"That would seem to be the wisest course," Herodion replied. He looked over to where his wife, still carrying the baby, was speaking softly with their son, his expression growing gentle. "I would wish to spare them as much hardship as possible," he admitted. "The sooner we can get to the comforts of Pagenia the better. Now if you will excuse me."

He inclined his head and moved to join his wife and son, grabbing what blankets he had from his saddle as he went.

Jason turned back to his two friends, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger as he did. Hercules smiled softly at him, his eyes knowing.

"When did you last get some proper sleep?" the burly wrestler asked quietly. "I know you haven't been sleeping all that well lately."

"I am tired," Jason acknowledged. "Can't actually remember the last time I had a full night's sleep… not since Atlantis fell anyway."

Hercules pursed his lips and nodded.

"You should get some rest while you have the chance," he said, patting his young friend on the arm gently. "That goes for both of you," he added, turning to look at Pythagoras. "If we're to make it back to Pagenia safely we need that big brain of yours."

"What about you?" Pythagoras asked.

"Someone needs to stay on guard," Hercules declared. "Sleep is for women, babies and men like you. Old warriors like myself… we don't need sleep." He caught the incredulous look his friends exchanged. "You are both young," he stated. "You need more sleep than I do."

"You sleep more than any man I've ever known," Pythagoras retorted.

"Maybe that's what I want you to think," Hercules replied.

"Why?"

"Just shut up and go to sleep Pythagoras," Hercules growled, making his way back to the head of the gully and sitting down with his back to them.

Pythagoras looked at his retreating back and then turned towards Jason with some amusement. Jason shrugged, eyes dancing and a smile flickering across his lips. Both young men grabbed their blankets from their horses. Having made sure that the animals were secure, they made their way further into the gully to try to get what rest they could, leaving Hercules to his solitary vigil.

* * *

"You have failed me," King Anaxandros' voice was even harsher than ever.

He was sitting in the Council Chamber of the Atlantian Palace. His advisors had left a few moments earlier. In front of him, General Ceyx knelt to await his King's pleasure – or displeasure as the case may be. Given Anaxandros' temper, it was almost certain to be the latter. Ceyx swallowed hard, remembering the fate of his predecessor, and hoping that he wasn't about to meet the same end.

"My Lord," he began stiffly.

"I gave you one simple job," Anaxandros almost purred. "All I asked was that you delivered the Princess, the Oracle and Aeson's brat to me here… and you could not even do that. The city was sealed, yet still they escaped."

"They must have had help, Your Majesty," Ceyx replied. "Someone must have sheltered them and aided their passage out of the city."

"Indeed," Anaxandros agreed with a humourless laugh. "Yet you have been unable to find out who that person might have been and how they managed to spirit away such easily recognisable women as the Oracle and the Princess."

He stood up and began to pace back and forth before the kneeling Ceyx.

"And still they defy me!" he declared. "Every day more and more traitors escape our justice. Every day more of them escape from the city… Yet you cannot tell me how and seem unable to prevent it!"

He paused in front of the General.

"I have tried to be merciful," he stated. "I have offered rewards for information to no avail. I ordered you to scourge a portion of your men as a warning to the others not to neglect their duties, yet I have not punished them in any other way… and how have they repaid me for my kindness? With failure! With incompetence and laxity!"

He resumed his pacing before turning sharply back towards Ceyx and levelling his finger at the man.

"Well no more!" he roared. "You, General, will personally oversee the search for these traitors… and for every person that escapes this city you will execute a prisoner… _and a guard_. I _will not_ be made a laughing stock by the negligence of my troops. Your men will learn to do their duty or face my wrath! You will find whoever is behind this rebellion and you will bring them here to face justice. Do I make myself clear?"

Ceyx gulped.

"Yes, My Lord," he mumbled.

"Good," Anaxandros replied. "And let me make something else abundantly clear, General Ceyx… you have failed to bring me the Princess and Aeson's son… do not fail to find these traitors… or suffer the consequences. If you should fail, _you_ will suffer the same fate as your men."

"Yes, My Lord," Ceyx murmured, trembling slightly.

Anaxandros smiled. It was not a pleasant smile.

"Very well," he said. "Go… and make sure you do not fail me again. I want these traitors found… and while you are at it, I want to know what has happened to _dear_ Minos and his family. Someone somewhere knows something. I want Minos brought back here and made an example of so that the people will know that _I_ am their King now."

He dismissed his General with a flip of his hand and turned his back on the man, moving towards a hidden doorway.

The corridor outside was deserted as the Amphigeneian King stalked down it.

"Father."

Anaxandros paused, barely managing to control a growl. He had sent for his son Anaxos as soon as he had been certain of taking Atlantis – earlier than he had initially intended but with so many problems cropping up he had felt the need to have his heir where he could see him – although he certainly took little pleasure in his company.

Anaxos was, not to put too fine a point on it, an idiot. He had inherited all of his father's brutality with none of his intelligence. As a young man, Anaxandros had outwardly been everything a prince should be; handsome, well-spoken and clever. He had never been charming but had made up for that deficit in other ways.

Anaxos, however, was none of those things. His features were coarse and unattractive, his skin sallow, pock-marked and pimply, and his muddy brown hair was limp, greasy and already beginning to thin. His mouth hung open slackly as he stared at his father and his clothes were none too clean. The whole effect might have been a little better if he had bathed a little more regularly. As it was he smelled something akin to a dung heap.

Anaxandros barely managed to conceal his contempt.

"What?" he demanded.

Anaxos' mouth worked as he tried to work out his next sentence. His father hid a shudder at his vacant expression.

"I need a new serving girl," he mumbled eventually.

"Why?" Anaxandros asked suspiciously.

He caught sight of the blood on his son's hands, streaking up the sleeves of his tunic, and decided that he didn't need to know the details.

"Never mind," he growled. "Pick whoever you want from the servants but do not bother me with it."

"The last one was defective," Anaxos muttered defensively. "She would not stop screaming."

"Then get another," Anaxandros replied, uncaringly. "Servants are easily replaced… Just try not to get a child on one this time. I have enough to deal with without having to get rid of another of your bastards."

Anaxos stood there with that vacant, slack-mouthed expression that drove his father mad.

"Go and do whatever it is you wanted to do," Anaxandros instructed with a growl.

What had he done to offend the Gods so much that they cursed him with such a son? He wondered about it as he made his way back to his private chambers.

The chambers he had taken were deep in the heart of the Palace. They were not the chambers that Minos had occupied, although they _were_ large and opulent. Anaxandros suspected they had been used as guest chambers for visiting royalty. Somewhere deep inside a memory stirred. He had a vague recollection of being housed in these chambers when he had visited Atlantis with his father so many years ago.

The advantage that these rooms had, as far as Anaxandros could see, was that they were easily defensible. They were so far into the heart of the Palace that any intruder would have to fight their way past most of the other chambers first and the small window in the bedroom overlooked a sheer drop, making it virtually impossible for anyone to attack from that direction.

He strode across the room and reached for a wine jug and a cup. As he did his shoulder pulled and he hissed, bringing his other hand up to cover the point where it ached the most.

He ground his teeth. Aeson's brat had done his work well. The wound which had festered for days after Atlantis had fallen had largely healed but the shoulder was still far weaker than it should be.

Would that he could have found both the Princess and the boy. He had envisioned such exquisite tortures for Aeson's son; the young man would have regretted the day he ever dared to cross Anaxandros right up to the moment when the Amphigeneian King cut his still beating heart from his chest. If only his incompetent soldiers had done their duty as they should, none of the accursed Atlantian royal family would have escaped the fall of the city.

Still, what was done was done.

Anaxandros still hoped, however, that his patrols and spies might learn where Minos and his family were skulking. They surely could not have gone far after all – the injury to the Queen would have seen to that. If he could just catch them...

A thought occurred to him now. From the start, he had been intending to marry off his imbecilic son to Minos' daughter. The Gods know that the boy was virile enough and the Princess would prove an eminently suitable brood mare to provide Anaxos with a gaggle of heirs. But perhaps he had not been thinking clearly enough.

Why should he give the girl to his son when he could take her as a wife himself? He was long widowed after all (the frail and dull-witted girl he had married for the wealth she had brought to his impoverished kingdom had been gone for many years). So what if he was far from young? He was still fit enough to father a brood of mewling brats; a better heir than he had right now.

Anaxandros smiled maliciously. Yes, a new son; a new heir. More than one if he was lucky. Then he could arrange for Anaxos to have an 'accident'. Surely the Gods would be merciful and grant him the heir that he deserved? A son that he could look at without wanting to shudder?

That would be the ideal outcome of course. But if Princess Ariadne could not be found? Or if she should be killed alongside her father? Well, no matter. Now that Anaxandros ruled here as well as Amphigeneia and had the wealth of Atlantis behind him he should have no trouble in persuading one of his fellow kings to part with a daughter.

That was for the future though.

For now he had to concentrate on making his own position here secure. His forces had begun to move out into the countryside to subdue it in the same way the city had been subdued. It would not be long until the entire kingdom was subjugated to his will. Then he would be able to begin to strip it of its resources for the glorification of Amphigeneia.

The only blot on the horizon was the so far complete and utter failure to identify the conspirators who were helping those suspected of remaining loyal to Minos to escape. Anaxandros was not about to accept any rebellion under any circumstances. No. They would be caught and then they would be made an example of.

He sat down in a chair and toyed with his cup of wine, brooding darkly over the fate he had planned for these traitors.

* * *

Jason rolled over and sat up, stretching. The couple of hours' rest had done wonders for his stamina, although he had to admit that sleeping on the rocky ground had made his back a little stiff. It was nothing that he wouldn't be able to walk off quickly though.

He looked around. None of his companions appeared to have stirred yet and, much as they would need to move on soon, Jason was content to let them have these last few minutes of sleep undisturbed. He went to push himself up from the ground but stopped as he saw Lady Ianthe. She had gone to sleep with the baby clutched protectively in one arm and the small boy nestled in the other.

Jason smiled a little wistfully. No matter how close he became to his mother, part of him would always regret the lost years.

Moving slowly and silently, Jason got up, grabbed a wine skin and picked his way out from among his companions, making his way to the entrance to the gully where Hercules was on guard. The burly wrestler didn't move as he approached; in fact, he gave no indication that he knew Jason was there at all. Jason frowned and crept closer. Up close he could see that Hercules' eyes were closed.

Part of Jason felt that he should be angry that Hercules was sleeping when he was meant to be on guard, and yet there was no real harm done on this occasion. He tiptoed up to his older friend, placed the wine skin he was carrying down on a rock and bent forwards at the waist, resting his hands behind his knees for balance.

"Hercules," he called softly. "Hercules."

Hercules gave a particularly loud snore but made no other response. Jason grinned to himself.

"I have wine," he said.

Hercules snorted awake.

"What? Where? What's going on?" he mumbled.

"I thought you said that sleep was for women and babies?" Jason teased, eyes full of mirth.

"I wasn't sleeping… I was just resting my eyes," Hercules protested.

"Why were you snoring then?"

"Er… that was to lure any enemies into a false sense of security," Hercules spluttered. "Then when they got close I'd have been on them like a…"

"Tortoise?" Jason unhelpfully supplied.

"A lion," Hercules proclaimed.

"A lion?" Jason repeated with amusement.

"Yes," Hercules answered.

"So you were just pretending to be asleep then?" Jason asked, his tone light and teasing.

"Shut up, Jason," Hercules mumbled.

His young companion chuckled.

"No harm done," he said, "and I won't tell Pythagoras that you were asleep on the job… I did bring wine too."

"Wine?" Hercules said. "All is forgiven. You are a prince amongst men."

"So I am told," Jason retorted, eyes still dancing.

Hercules cast a worried glance over his shoulder to where their other companions were still sleeping.

"I thought we were keeping that a secret," he said quietly.

"We are," Jason replied, equally softly but still grinning openly. "I was just teasing."

It felt like an age since he'd been relaxed enough to banter with his friends; it felt good to tease Hercules now.

Hercules relaxed into his own smile and took a long swig from the wine skin.

"We need to be moving soon," he pointed out. "They'll need to be woken up." He nodded towards their travelling companions.

"Leave them for now," Jason said. "It won't hurt to give them a few more minutes."

He looked up to gauge the position of the sun.

"I'm going to go and refill the water skins," he suggested, "and maybe see if I can rustle up a bit of fruit to top up our supplies."

Hercules nodded. He took another long swig from the wine skin and turned back to keep watch on the head of the gully.

Jason smiled to himself as he retrieved the water skins and a bowl from the packs still attached to the horses. He made his way over to the small stream and put everything he was carrying down on the bank. He unstoppered the first skin and held it down under the water, waiting for it to fill and then putting the stopper back into place and laying it down on the bank. The water was cold and very fresh.

Jason couldn't resist drinking a couple of handfuls or splashing some water on his face to freshen himself up a little. He ran his damp hands through his hair and stretched again before returning to the task at hand.

It was as he filled the third skin, working quickly and methodically, that he realised someone had come to join him and was hovering just on the edge of his peripheral vision. He looked up.

"My father sent me to help you." Iollas looked nervous for some reason.

Jason smiled affably and gestured towards the skins that were still empty.

"The more the merrier," he said.

Iollas came and crouched next to him, hand hovering over the empty water skins.

"At home we have servants to do this sort of thing," he muttered. "I am not entirely sure how to…"

Jason smiled kindly at him.

"Just take the stopper out, put the skin under the water, take it out when it's full and put the stopper back in," he advised.

"This is still servant's work," Iollas muttered under his breath. "But then I suppose that is all I am good for."

He was speaking to himself – so quietly that Jason almost didn't hear him.

Jason frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked softly.

Iollas ignored him for a moment. He was staring down into the water, cheeks flaming with apparent embarrassment.

"I am a coward," he said, almost inaudibly. "I am no real use whatsoever."

Jason sighed and moved from a crouch to sit next to the boy on the bank of the stream.

"You're not a coward," he said firmly.

"Yes I am," the boy retorted. "I have been trained in the art of sword play for as long as I can remember – trained to be a warrior from childhood – and yet I froze as soon as I was in a real fight. I would have been killed if you had not been there."

"I'm guessing you'd never been in a real battle before?" Jason asked quietly.

"No," Iollas answered. "It was not as I expected it to be."

Jason watched him steadily.

"I'd never actually been in a full battle until the night Atlantis fell a few weeks ago now," he admitted. "Skirmishes, yes… but not a full pitched battle. I'm not sure there's anything that could prepare you for that. The noise and the smoke… and the fear. Well… you saw it last night."

"But you wouldn't have been afraid," Iollas protested. "And you would never have frozen like that… or got knocked down so easily."

Jason snorted.

"Of course I was afraid," he retorted. "Look… there are a lot of people who'll tell you that courage is about not being afraid. It isn't and they're talking rubbish. Courage is about doing what needs to be done – about getting the job done – even if you _are_ afraid. A battle's a scary thing. Don't _ever_ think that you're a coward for feeling fear. It makes you human… and as for getting knocked down – you lost your footing that's all. It happens to all of us at times. Besides… you did better that I did the first time I was in any sort of skirmish – I dropped my sword the first time I faced anyone."

Iollas looked at him, his disbelief written in his eyes.

"Please do not patronise me," he said sharply. "I am hardly likely to believe that. I have seen your skill."

"It's true," Jason insisted. "Ask Hercules, my older friend. He teased me about it for months. You see Hercules obviously thought I knew what I was doing because he threw me a sword… only my opponent knocked it straight out of my hand. Hercules is fond of saying that he'd seen four-year-old girls with a stronger grip than I had… I didn't have a clue what I was doing with a sword then, but I learned."

"Really? You are not just trying to make me feel better?"

Jason hesitated for a moment.

"I _am_ trying to make you feel better," he admitted, "but that doesn't make the story any less true. Talk to Hercules if you don't believe me. He'll be more than happy to tell you about it."

"It must have been years ago though," Iollas said despondently.

"About a year ago actually," Jason answered with a slightly embarrassed chuckle. "It was two days after I arrived in Atlantis."

Iollas stared at him in disbelief.

"Now I know you are not telling the truth," he declared. "My tutors told me that it takes years to learn the art of sword play properly. No-one could become so skilled so quickly."

"I give you my word that everything I've told you is true," Jason replied earnestly. "You can ask either one of my friends about it… although Hercules would probably get more enjoyment out of telling you the story than Pythagoras would. The point I'm trying to make though," he added, "is that you're being much too hard on yourself. You're what? Fifteen? Sixteen?"

"Fourteen," Iollas answered, looking down at the ground.

"There's no way I could have done what you did last night when I was fourteen," Jason stated. "So you got shoved over by an enemy soldier? You're still here to tell the tale, aren't you? We all are. That's got to be a good thing. You need to learn to take what victories you can… even if they're little ones. You fought in your first proper battle and survived… and you _did_ fight. That's not something a coward would have done. You need to stop being so hard on yourself. It'll all be alright."

Iollas looked back up at him, biting his lip.

"Do you really believe that?" he asked.

Jason smiled.

"Yes I do," he answered earnestly.

He shoved the stopper back into the last water skin and put it down on the pile.

"Could you do me a favour and take these back while I go and see what fruit is on the bushes?" he asked, gesturing towards the skins.

"Of course," Iollas answered, standing up and picking up the skins.

He hesitated for a moment before looking back at Jason.

"Thank you," he said.

Jason watched him make his way back to the rest of the party with a soft smile.

"That was good advice." Pythagoras' voice was gentle, although it still made Jason jump. He hadn't heard his friend approach.

"Sorry?" Jason asked, standing and moving to join Pythagoras.

"Telling Iollas not to be so hard on himself," Pythagoras clarified, his voice still soft. "It was good advice." He glanced at Jason, his gaze shrewd. "Although I do have to ask whether you plan on taking it yourself?"

"I don't know what you mean," Jason responded slowly.

"Yes, you do," Pythagoras replied. "For as long as I have known you, you have always been too hard on yourself… taking the blame for things that are not your fault… taking too much weight onto your own shoulders. Perhaps it is time you took your own advice."

He smiled and clapped his friend on the shoulder before wandering back towards the horses and leaving Jason staring after him in surprise.

Near to where they had slept, Lady Ianthe was sitting with the baby on her lap. She was attempting to feed the child with a sort of watery paste she had crushed up from some of the supplies in one of the saddlebags. Pythagoras wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what was in it; it hardly looked appetising.

"Is the baby well, My Lady?" the young mathematician asked.

"Yes," the woman responded. "She is very well."

"It's a girl then," Pythagoras murmured.

"She is," Lady Ianthe confirmed. "She is a very beautiful little girl. I always wanted a daughter," she added, half to herself. "But it was not to be. After Iollas, we were told there could be no more children. Sometimes I wish…" she broke off suddenly, leaving what it was that she wished unspoken.

Pythagoras hesitated, not entirely sure how he should respond; not sure any response he might make would be welcome.

"There," the woman said softly, finishing off what she was doing and smiling gently at the baby girl in her arms.

The smile lit up her entire face, making her seem much younger. When she looked up, however, all trace of softness had gone and her apparently more usual haughty expression had returned.

"Fetch me some water and a cloth," she commanded, in the tone of one who does not expect their wishes to be disobeyed.

Pythagoras rolled his eyes as he turned away and stifled a sigh. He supposed it was too much to expect that such a highborn lady might be polite.

"Wait." Lady Ianthe's imperious instruction stopped him in his tracks. "What is your name?"

Pythagoras turned back to face her.

"Pythagoras, My Lady," he replied softly.

"Pythagoras," Ianthe repeated slowly, as though she was committing it to memory.

She looked up into the young genius' face.

"What you and your friends did last night…" she began quietly. "You have my thanks… and my apologies. You saved my family despite my poor behaviour towards you all. I am in your debt… and I will not forget." She looked from the baby in her arms to the sleeping little boy at her side.

"It was nothing, My Lady," Pythagoras responded gently. "The King instructed us to ensure your safety. We were simply fulfilling our duty."

"No," Ianthe disagreed. "It was more than that. Much more. My behaviour and my words were inexcusable… yet not one of you reacted. You were far more courteous than I deserved… more courteous than I was… and I am ashamed of my conduct… Besides, I do not think that what your friends did in saving these children was out of duty."

"Perhaps not," Pythagoras acknowledged. "Hercules has a soft spot for babies and young children – whether he will admit it or not… and Jason has very strong opinions about right and wrong… and about what's fair. He could never abandon an innocent to such a horrible fate without at least trying to intervene."

"Hmm," Lady Ianthe said. "I suspect that all three of you are good men… and I will make sure that my husband informs the King of your conduct when we get to Pagenia. If it is in my power, I will see that you are suitably rewarded."

"We have to get to Pagenia first," Lord Herodion's deep voice rumbled. "And the sooner we set off the better it will be."

"Of course," his wife responded, moving to wake the little boy beside her. "Give me a few moments to prepare the children and I will be ready."

Pythagoras caught the loving look Lord Herodion gave his wife and moved away quickly to give them as much privacy as he could, making his way to his horse to prepare for the journey ahead.

* * *

Everything about Atlantis seemed bleak, Meriones decided morosely. A pall of suspicion and fear hung in the air. The merchants had begun to trade with each other once more and the city gates had been reopened to a trickle of traffic under the watchful and accusatory gaze of the Amphigeneian guards. It had been inevitable, Meriones knew, since even Anaxandros could not fail to realise that the city would starve without goods being brought in from the countryside. The queues to get through the gates in either direction were long and more were turned away than actually let through; everyone attempting a journey was heavily scrutinised to make sure that anyone who was suspected of not being loyal to the new King did not manage to slip through.

Anaxandros was a monster. Every day more and more citizens went to the cells or to their deaths, and the number of bodies left hanging in the streets increased. Meriones was doing what he could to try to get as many people out of the city as possible and know that there were others around the city doing the same thing, but it was really just a drop in the ocean. Sooner or later he would be betrayed – he had accepted that at the outset – but he hoped that he could do some good first – and that he would not take his friends and associates down with him.

"You need to eat."

The giant turned away from the window to face Orithyia. The motherly servant was standing looking at him with a stern expression on her face and her hands on her hips. Her position as Meriones' housekeeper was a temporary one; a ruse to keep the Amphigeneians from realising her connection to the Palace and to the Princess' escape. Meriones had had no intention of actually making her do the job.

Orithyia, however, had apparently had other ideas. She had taken over the management of his household completely and insisted on being allowed to do what she saw as her duty – informing the enormous merchant that she was going to help him no matter what; that this was her way of helping the resistance to Anaxandros.

"I have little appetite at present," Meriones rumbled. He turned back to stare moodily out of the window.

Orithyia raised an eyebrow.

"You still need to eat," she asserted firmly. "Even if you don't feel like it. You'll do no-one any good if you let yourself waste away."

Meriones gave a startled laugh.

"I hardly think that will be likely," he said with some amusement, gesturing at his vast frame.

"That's as may be," Orithyia said, "but you won't be able to help anyone else if you don't look after yourself. Now go and sit yourself down and I'll get you something."

Meriones sighed but did as he was told. He had learned early on that it did no good to argue with Orithyia when she made up her mind about something.

"You do not have to keep doing this," he said gently as he sat at the table in the kitchen. "I do not expect to be waited on."

"Yes I do," his female companion replied, filling a bowl from a pan over the fire. "Oh I know you only took me on so that that sweet young man and the Princess wouldn't worry about leaving me behind… but it _is_ my job now. I can't help you to rescue anyone but I can help by making sure that you're looked after so that _you_ can rescue them that need it."

She put the bowl she was holding down on the table in front of Meriones almost aggressively, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

Meriones nodded, smiling internally. Jason's ability to inspire loyalty on what was essentially very short acquaintance was apparent once again – the only one who never seemed able to see it (or to believe it anyway) was Jason himself.

To please the motherly lady, the giant picked up his spoon and took a mouthful of stew. It was very good; hot and flavourful.

Orithyia watched him for a moment before turning away to begin to tidy up.

Meriones frowned.

"Are you not eating?" he asked.

"It wouldn't be right," Orithyia answered, not looking up from her task. "At the Palace, servants eat when they can and never at the same time as their masters."

Meriones' frown deepened.

"You are _not_ my servant," he stated firmly. "I am glad of your company and thankful of your help but I am not your master. Please… join me. I am a social creature and I prefer not to eat alone… Come, sit, eat."

Orithyia looked at him curiously, clearly trying to gauge how serious he was. Meriones looked steadily back with a raised eyebrow, gesturing expansively at the seat opposite him. Finally, Orithyia swallowed hard and nodded. She moved back to the fire and helped herself to a bowl of the stew she had cooked, bringing it back to the table and sitting down on the opposite side from the enormous merchant. Meriones smiled and reached across to pour her a cup of wine.

"Thank you," Orithyia said softly. She smiled and gestured to the table and the wine. "I am not used to this. As a servant at the Palace I have learned to eat at odd times. My husband has been gone these many years past – rest his soul – and my children are all grown. Most of the time I eat alone."

"As do I… when I am at home that is. In normal times I spend much of my time in the tavern. I enjoy the company of others and conduct much of my business there."

"Legal or otherwise?"

Meriones gave a booming laugh, his thick black beard wagging.

"I am a legitimate businessman," he protested, his eyes dancing merrily. He paused for a moment. "I am also a thief, a swindler, a smuggler, a liar and a rogue… although I think that that holds true to a greater or lesser extent for all businessmen," he added. "I am, perhaps, simply a little more honest about it than most."

Orithyia laughed.

"Honest about being dishonest," she said. "That is a strange thing to admit."

"I do not lie to my friends," Meriones stated seriously.

He paused as Isosceles jumped up onto the seat next to him and reached down with one huge hand to pet the little creature.

"She misses them," Orithyia observed.

"Yes," Meriones replied. "She does… Jason in particular I think. She loves him."

"And he loves her." Orithyia hesitated for a moment. "You must think me a fool for stopping in the midst of disaster to rescue a cat."

"No. I do not think you a fool." Meriones' voice was soft and sincere.

"He was kind to me… did not take offence at the gabbling of an old woman. I did not like to think of him returning from battle and finding the little cat he and his friends seemed so attached to missing."

Meriones sighed.

"Jason is by nature a kind young man," he said. "He and Pythagoras… well… they are both too kind and selfless for their own good. In many ways they are as alike as two puppies from the same litter… even if they are not related by blood." He sighed again. "I am glad they managed to get out of Atlantis. It would be too dangerous for them here at present. _King_ Anaxandros would kill Jason along with the rest of his family if he found him."

"You know who his family is then?" Orithyia asked, with a startled look at the giant merchant. "Who _he_ is?"

"I do," Meriones confirmed. "Although I did not know it when I first got to know Jason… but then I do not believe that _Jason_ knew it back then either… I am a little surprised that you know, however… I understood it to be a secret."

"As far as I know it is," Orithyia confirmed. "I was just a young girl when I first went to work at the Palace. In my time, I have seen many things and met many people. I remember the Prince as a baby in arms. From the moment I saw him again there was something familiar about him – he has the look of several members of his family about him but especially his grandmother – but I couldn't quite place him… until I saw him with the Queen and then there could be no doubt. The only person I have ever seen Her Majesty look at with such affection was the child she lost."

Meriones nodded thoughtfully, still stroking the kitten at his side. The conversation lapsed into a silence that was not uncomfortable.

"What were you thinking about before?" Orithyia asked finally. "When you were in the window… You looked so grim that I feared you had received bad news."

Meriones started, startled out of his thoughts by the motherly woman's words. He sighed.

"I fear the future," he said morosely. "These are dark days… yet I fear that what is to come may be darker still. Anaxandros will not stop until we are bled dry… and I fear that we are waiting for a rescue that will never come."

"But King Minos won't give up that easily, surely? I heard you saying to Gelo that you thought he was gathering troops."

"Mmm," the giant responded. "But I do not know if it will be enough. The Amphigeneian army will vastly outnumber any survivors of our own army that the King might gather. I hope and pray that any attempt to retake the city will succeed but I fear that it may be futile."

"Then we must pray to the Gods that they will deliver us," Orithyia said softly. "They surely cannot abandon us now."

"I hope that you are right," Meriones replied.

"But you don't believe it."

Meriones sighed.

"Forgive me," he said. "I am simply in a dark mood today. It will pass. I hope that the Gods will deliver us. I hope that the King will return and regain the throne. I hope that someone will come to save us… a hero who the people will rally to. Yet I know that we cannot expect help unless we are willing to help ourselves."

"Which is why you are risking your life to help others to escape," Orithyia murmured.

"It is one of the reasons," Meriones agreed. "I do not like bullies… I believe that they must be stood up to… eradicated – and Anaxandros _is_ a bully." He sighed. "I will undoubtedly be caught in the end," he admitted. "There is always someone who will betray you out of fear or greed. I just hope I will have done enough before that happens."

"I pray that we will all come through this safely," his companion said quietly.

"I hope that all my friends will." Meriones sighed but gave Orithyia a half-smile. "I have made sure that there is no evidence that can connect my friends to any of my less than legitimate activities – especially to my assistance of escapees. I only ever put my legitimate business in writing."

"Our new rulers seem a paranoid lot," Orithyia snorted. "If they can arrest someone simply for complaining that they couldn't get as much bread as normal then they would certainly have no problem in arresting all your friends simply for knowing you."

"What's this?" Meriones asked with a frown.

Orithyia sighed.

"I was at the agora this morning – you were out of milk. There was a young woman at the next stall. She was saying that she was worried about feeding her family since the bread supply was so low. There were soldiers nearby and they overheard her. The next thing you know she was being arrested and the soldier in charge was announcing that it was for 'spreading seditious rumours'. They've been rounding up whole families ever since the city fell just because they've said they were unhappy."

"I know," Meriones confirmed. "And they will no doubt continue until they are stopped." He squared his shoulders. "I must not allow my fears to overcome me," he announced. "Not when there is still work to be done."

Orithyia looked at him steadily.

"What can I do to help?" she asked.

"I cannot ask that of you," Meriones replied. "You do enough here."

"You have not asked it," his motherly companion answered firmly. "I have offered. I am a servant and I have served the King and Queen for years – ever since I was a girl. King Minos has not been a bad king by any means… so anything I can do to help I will… and as for doing enough already – I hardly think a bit of tidying and cooking amount to all that much."

Meriones sighed softly.

"Very well," he said. "There is a task you can complete for me."

* * *

Jason woke up with a start and sat up, eyes darting around the clearing where they had made their camp. Something had woken him up and he wasn't entirely sure what that something was. He was fairly certain that he hadn't been dreaming this time – neither nightmares of the past or apparent visions of the future – so what had disturbed him? He scrubbed a hand across his face in annoyance. Was it really too much to ask to have one night of uninterrupted sleep?

He sat still for a moment, listening. The night was still and peaceful, broken only by Hercules' stentorian snoring.

On the far side of the clearing, Lord Herodion was sitting with his back to the rest of the group, taking his turn on guard. It had come as a pleasant surprise when he had insisted that the task of keeping watch would not just fall to Jason and his friends; that he and Iollas would take their turns too.

Knowing that sleep would not return easily, Jason silently pushed himself to his feet in one fluid motion, deciding that he may as well have a scout around to see if he could work out what had woken him – or at least reassure himself that all was well so that he could attempt to get back to sleep.

Without even thinking about it, he slid the strap for his sword up over his head and collected his cloak from in amongst the blankets, fastening it around his shoulders and pulling the hood up to cover his head. The dark green colour would help him to blend in with his surroundings.

At the edge of the clearing, Jason paused and dropped down into a crouch beside Lord Herodion. The other man looked at him with a deep frown.

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

"No," Jason answered. "Can't sleep. I thought I'd go for a little walk… Just to make sure that everything's alright. I won't go far or be too long."

"Very well," Herodion answered. "If you are not back before the moon drops below the top of that tree I will come looking for you, however."

Jason looked up with narrowed eyes. By his estimation (which he would be the first to admit might not be terribly accurate) he would have at least an hour – more than enough time to have a quick look around, especially as he had no intention of being away from the camp for that long. He nodded tightly and stood up.

They were two days out from Athanos now and well on their way back to Pagenia. So far there had been no sign of anything that might threaten their party and they had all begun to relax a little – although they had not let their guard down.

This was silly, Jason decided as he walked. There was nothing obvious that had woken him – nothing more than a faint sense of foreboding that kept tickling at the edge of his mind. Everything was going so well that it almost seemed too good to be true. He was on edge that was all; his mind was playing tricks on him and he should really head straight back to camp and try to get back to sleep.

Still, what would it hurt to make absolutely certain? And besides, he knew from past experience that when he was struggling to sleep a short walk sometimes helped. Decision made, he moved on.

The deeper he wandered into the woods, the more serene his surroundings seemed. Jason smiled softly to himself as he allowed the peace of the night to seep into him.

He wandered on a little further.

Ahead of him a doe stalked out from between the trees with her fawn in tow. She stopped dead, sniffing the air, and turned her head to look at Jason before racing off through the trees with the fawn scampering after her. In the undergrowth some sort of smallish creature snuffled and out of the corner of his eye, Jason thought he saw a fox off in the distance. Overhead an owl screeched.

Having grown up in a town (albeit a small, sleepy one) Jason had never really been exposed to the true wonders of nature until he'd come to Atlantis. If he hadn't still been a little on edge – hadn't still been trying to work out what had woken him up – it would have been enchanting out here tonight. One day, he promised himself, he would spend a few days travelling just for the pleasure of seeing the land he was now living in rather than for a job or because disaster was about to strike (or indeed had already struck).

He must have been walking for about half an hour (although without a watch it was a bit hard to tell – and that was something he did miss from his former life). Gradually all sounds had died away until the only thing he could hear was his own breathing.

Jason stopped, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. It almost felt like he was in one of those cheesy horror movies he'd watched as a teenager and in college.

Then he heard it: the sound of feet rustling through the leaves somewhere ahead of him; the faint rattling of weaponry.

Jason crept forwards, moving with almost no sound. Faint voices began to come to him on the breeze, allowing him to pinpoint their location more accurately. Using the trees for cover, he moved forwards until he could see who was out here.

It was an Amphigeneian detachment; their distinctive helmets gleaming faintly in the moonlight and giving them away. Jason ducked back behind the tree he was currently hiding behind and swallowed hard, before peering around the trunk to gauge exactly what they were facing.

There must have been at least thirty soldiers in the party – possibly even forty. Certainly far too many for his own little group to take on. They were led by a grim faced officer. As Jason watched, a junior officer approached him.

"Sir, we must make camp for the night," the younger officer said formally. "The men are exhausted."

"My orders are to march on the town of Thera with all haste," his superior growled. "I am not about to risk punishment because the men wish to dawdle."

"It is not a matter of dawdling, Sir. They simply cannot go much further. Surely we are making good enough time?"

The officer in charge grunted.

"Perhaps you are correct," he said. "We are further than I would have expected us to be." He sighed. "Very well. We will make camp at the next clearing we come across."

Jason's eyes narrowed as he listened to their talk. If the Amphigeneians carried on in the direction they were going, the next clearing they came across would be the one where he and his friends had set up their camp. He couldn't allow them to be caught like that; wasn't sure what the Amphigeneian soldiers would do if they came across his group but suspected it would be nothing good based on his experiences of the enemy so far.

Moving silently but as swiftly as he dared, he melted back into the trees. Once he was a safe enough distance away that he hoped he wouldn't be heard (or at least taken for an animal if he was), Jason picked up his pace and broke into a run, heading back towards his friends as quickly as he could, intent on warning them of the danger they were facing.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N In the words of Samwise Gamgee "Well, I'm back." I will (once again) apologise for the delay in the publication of this chapter but I promise it was in a good cause - I now have two stories written and ready for the Small Fandom Big Bang which should be published at some point in April, once the artist I am paired up with has finished their artwork for them. At present these two stories are weighing in at around 25 thousand words each so, as you can see, I've been a busy girl in the last six weeks or so ;-)

Anyway, enough of the excuses and on with the chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. :-)

* * *

A firm hand covering his mouth woke Hercules from a deep sleep with a start. His eyes sprang open in shock, only to meet a pair of hazel eyes shining brightly in the darkness. Without saying a word, Jason raised his finger to his lips, gesturing for Hercules to keep quiet.

"There are Amphigeneians in the woods," the young man whispered urgently. "They're heading this way. We need to leave now!"

Hercules nodded his understanding.

When his young friend moved his hand away from his mouth, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. Behind Jason's shoulder he could see Pythagoras and Iollas readying the horses.

"A patrol?" Hercules hissed.

"No," Jason replied. "It's a detachment. They're marching on the town of Thera. They are looking for somewhere to set up camp for the night and the next clearing they come to will be this one."

He reached down and offered Hercules his hand, helping his older friend to his feet.

"How do you know this?" Hercules asked, hurrying to roll up his blankets and dragging the strap of his sword over his head.

"Couldn't sleep," Jason answered. "Something woke me up. So I went for a walk and ran into the Amphigeneians – almost literally." He caught Hercules' worried look. "Don't worry," he added. "They didn't see me. They never even knew I was there."

"How many of them are there?" Hercules demanded.

"Too many to fight," Jason replied, looking around at their small group. "They can't be too far behind me either." He glanced at the path they would take and then back in the direction he had seen the enemy soldiers. "We'll have to lead the horses," he decided. "Would you lead mine?" he asked Pythagoras. "And I'll need to borrow your bow."

"Why?" Pythagoras asked suspiciously.

"They're too close," Jason said hurriedly. "I can't risk them catching us… so I'm going to provide them with a distraction while you and Hercules get everyone to safety."

"No!" Hercules growled. "It's too dangerous."

"Hercules, we have no choice," Jason argued. "If they catch us we are dead anyway… or as good as." He paused and took a deep breath. "I'm not proposing that I attack the whole damned lot of them. I'm just going to send them off in the wrong direction. I promise you they will never even see me. I'll only be a few minutes behind you."

"Is there a problem?" Lord Herodion asked, coming up behind Jason.

"No," the young man replied. "There is no problem. Go with Hercules and Pythagoras. I will make sure that the Amphigeneians do not follow you and join you shortly."

He moved over to the horses and grabbed the bow and quiver of arrows that was hanging from Pythagoras' saddle, removing his cloak as he did, shoving it into a bag strapped to his own horse and slinging the strap for the quiver over his head.

"You know your mother will skin us all alive if anything happens to you, don't you?" Hercules demanded.

Jason pushed past him and grabbed a length of thin rope from one of the saddles.

"We don't have time to talk about this," he said. "They'll be on us any minute." He turned to Pythagoras. "Keep going north. I'll catch up as soon as I've got them heading the wrong way."

"One of us should stay with you," Pythagoras suggested.

"No," Jason disagreed. "I will move quicker on my own. Try to move as quickly as you can but make sure you stay quiet. Now go!"

He watched as his two friends led the small group away, Hercules still grumbling under his breath, and then set about preparing himself.

Moving swiftly now, Jason took the path to the south of the clearing, in the opposite direction from the one his friends had taken. A few hundred yards back from the clearing he stopped and selected two trees – one on either side of the path – and slung the rope between them; tying it around the trunks at chest height. He walked a few steps back down the path, turned and looked back. The rope was barely visible in the dark and hopefully anyone running wouldn't see it at all.

Jason grinned to himself in satisfaction and crept back towards the clearing, hiding himself in the thick undergrowth to waiting for the Amphigeneian troops to arrive. He checked the bow and quiver of arrows one last time and loosened his sword in its sheath. Then he settled down to wait.

It was only a few minutes until the first of the enemy soldiers came into the clearing. Their grim faced officer spotted the remains of the small camp fire that Jason and his friends had used to cook their supper and was over to it in an instant, crouching down to see how hot the ashes were.

"Someone has been here," he growled. He stood and turned to his second in command. "They cannot have gone far," he declared. "Spread out and find them. I want whoever was here brought to me."

Jason swallowed hard. It was now or never – if he failed to provide a good enough distraction (or if he was caught) the Amphigeneians would be free to hunt down his friends. He stood up, making sure he stayed largely hidden by the tree, knocked an arrow and fired in one smooth movement.

The arrow flew straight and true, straight into the throat of one of the enemy soldiers. Jason quickly fired a second arrow and then darted around to a new vantage point, taking a couple of shots from there before moving on again, keeping to the deep shadows; knowing that the more spots he could fire from, the more attackers the Amphigeneians would believe they were facing. He had had the element of surprise on his side but it couldn't be more than a few moments until the Amphigeneians got over their shock and came after him, so he needed to make every arrow count now.

As it turned out, he was right – the Amphigeneian officer recovered from his surprise in remarkably quick time and began to snarl orders at his men, using the occasional well aimed kick to punctuate his words. He demanded that they find and dispose of whoever was attacking them and sent them off in the direction that the arrows were coming from – to the south of the clearing (which had been Jason's plan from the start).

Jason fired one last arrow, slung the bow across his shoulder and took to his heels; racing through the undergrowth as quickly as he could in the dark, fairly certain that he could outrun his pursuers. He was glad he had taken the opportunity to scout a short length of the southern path before the Amphigeneians had got to the clearing. It meant that he had a better idea of where he was going and of the obstacles that might lie in his path. After all, the last thing he needed right now was to turn an ankle tripping over a tree root in the dark. He was making a fair bit of noise but that was probably a good thing since he wanted the enemy soldiers to chase after him.

Finally he arrived at the spot where he had slung the rope across the path. Jason stopped and listened to the sound of the pursuit. The Amphigeneians were closing on him fast. He tested the rope to make sure that the knots would hold (silently blessing Mac for teaching him how to tie decent knots when he was a child). The rope stayed tight. Jason grinned.

As the sounds of pursuit drew ever closer, Jason moved to one of the nearby trees and quickly scrambled up it, perching in the branches, well hidden from the ground below. The first of the Amphigeneian troops came into sight, moving fast. Jason stayed as still as he could, knowing that the combination of the branches and the dark night would largely camouflage him. It helped that all soldiers in this world seemed to be the same too: they _never_ looked up. Jason grinned again in the darkness.

The first four or five Amphigeneians drew level with Jason's position. Without slowing down at all, they ran full tilt into the rope he had slung across the path at chest height, flying off their feet almost comically to land in a groaning heap. Their slightly slower companions didn't manage to stop in time and barrelled into them, landing in a tangled heap of limbs.

Jason stifled the urge to laugh, knowing that it would give his position away. He hadn't thought that a silly trick learned from the Saturday afternoon films he'd watched as a kid would work quite so well. From his vantage point above them, he watched the soldiers pick themselves up and charge on down the path, one of them hacking down the rope with his sword first. They were going in completely the opposite direction from the one Jason's companions had gone in.

He stayed completely still for a time, waiting until he was absolutely certain that the soldiers were gone before swinging himself around on a branch and dropping down out of the tree. There must have been around thirty Amphigeneians who had passed him and headed off to the south, so there really couldn't be all that many left back at the clearing. Still, he had better check he supposed; make sure that none of those left behind had taken it into their heads to check the northern path.

On silent feet, Jason crept back to the clearing and hid himself in the dense undergrowth on the edge once more. In the centre of the clearing, the Amphigeneian officer was sitting on a log near the newly rekindled fire while all around him the few men who had not been sent into the woods were hastily setting up a camp.

Jason smiled softly. It was clear that as a result of his distraction the Amphigeneians believed that whoever they were searching for had gone south and were only looking in that direction. With luck he and his companions would be far away before they realised their mistake. He melted back into the woods and began to make his way around the edge of the clearing – taking a wide and circuitous route to avoid being seen. Once he had re-joined his friends, they could move on quickly. By morning they would be well on their way to Pagenia and the enemy would be far behind them.

* * *

"He should have joined us by now!"

Hercules' incessant pacing and constant grumbling were beginning to get on Pythagoras' nerves.

"Yes," he agreed calmly. "But there are many reasons why Jason may have been held up."

They had travelled some distance from the clearing where they had set up camp for the night (and where the Amphigeneians were presumably now doing the same) before they had stopped to wait for Jason.

"So we just wait then?" Hercules exclaimed.

"We wait," Pythagoras confirmed. "When has Jason ever let us down? He will be here. You will see."

"I hate to make an unpopular suggestion," Lord Herodion interrupted, coming to join them, "but perhaps we should consider moving on soon. I understand your desire to wait for your friend but he would seem to be a most capable young man and will surely catch up with us further on." He gestured to where his family were standing. "I would wish to put some more distance between us and the Amphigeneians if possible… to get my family to safety."

Pythagoras saw Hercules start to bristle and moved in to stop his old friend from saying something that might offend one of the King's most trusted friends and advisors.

"He will be here," he said firmly. "If anyone can lead those soldiers away and then escape them, it's Jason."

"Do you really believe that?" Lord Herodion asked.

"Yes," Pythagoras replied. "Jason has saved our lives more times than I care to think about. He can run like the wind. I cannot think of anyone better suited for this task. He is different. Special."

"And if the Amphigeneians have caught him?" Herodion asked seriously.

"We have to believe that they have not," Pythagoras answered.

"We should never have left him to face them alone," Hercules burst out. He had resumed his pacing as Pythagoras was talking to Lord Herodion. "I'm going back."

"No Hercules," Pythagoras said firmly, as Lord Herodion stepped away to re-join his family. "It will do no good rushing in. If Jason has succeeded in distracting the Amphigeneians and getting away, then he will join us… and I fully believe that that is what will happen. If they have caught him, however, we will need a proper plan and one which does not involve us running in there and getting caught ourselves." He paused, looking thoughtfully back down the path they had travelled. "Haven't we had this argument before?" he added wryly.

"Probably," Hercules conceded reluctantly.

"And has Jason ever failed to meet us?"

"No," Hercules admitted, peering down the path. "So, he'll be fine then."

Pythagoras nodded and tried to smile – although the reality was that actually he was just as worried as Hercules; he was just hiding it a little better.

"Of course he will," he said. He couldn't resist an anxious look of his own down the path, however.

Hercules shook his head.

"This is all my fault, Pythagoras," he groused. "I knew we should never have come on this ridiculous mission. I knew it. I should have put my foot down when Jason told us that he'd volunteered us for it. He wouldn't have been able to come if we hadn't come with him."

"Do you really believe that would have stopped him?" Pythagoras asked incredulously. "You know how stubborn Jason can be when he sets his mind to something… and would you really have wanted to leave _them_ to their fate?" He gestured towards the family they were escorting to Pagenia and to the two little children Hercules and Jason had rescued; the baby girl gurgling happily in Iollas' arms while his mother cuddled the sleepy little boy. "You did the right thing, Hercules... We all did… and now we must pray that it ends well."

They both gave another worried look down the path.

Pythagoras sighed.

"Perhaps we should move on," he suggested. "We cannot wait here all night and risk capture… or worse."

Hercules looked at him in consternation.

"But you said…" he began as they turned and began to walk back to the horses.

"If the Amphigeneians capture Jason they will not relent until he has told them all he knows about who and where we are," Pythagoras said softly.

"He would never talk," Hercules replied with certainty.

"You have heard of their cruelties from the refugees who arrived in Atlantis and seen them with your own eyes in Athanos. They will not stop until he has told them everything," Pythagoras answered.

"It's a good thing they didn't catch him then." Jason's voice came from behind them and sounded amused.

"Jason!" Hercules exclaimed, sounding relieved.

The three friends came together for a quick hug before resuming the short walk to the horses.

"What happened?" Pythagoras asked.

"Let's just say the Amphigeneians are currently searching the woods to the south of the clearing," Jason answered. "They think they're hunting a whole group of warriors. By the time they realise their mistake we should be long gone and beyond their reach."

"How did you manage that?" Pythagoras enquired.

"A few well-placed arrows, a lot of crashing about in the bushes, a rope strung across the path… you know, that sort of thing," Jason said. "I'd like to put some distance between us and them though," he added, handing the bow and quiver back to Pythagoras.

"So where now?" Lord Herodion asked as the entire party swung themselves up onto their horses.

"North," Jason replied confidently. "We will get through the foothills of the mountains and then turn west to skirt along the coast until we reach Pagenia. We've been taking it easy up to this point but if we ride hard we should be able to make Pagenia in three days… four at the most. After all, riding hard we managed the journey from Pagenia to Athanos in five days," he gestured to himself and his two friends. "We will have taken longer coming back because we have not hurried… but I think it is time to pick up the pace."

Herodion frowned deeply.

"I would prefer it if the journey were as easy as possible for the sake of my family," he began.

"I understand," Jason answered, "but with the Amphigeneians beginning to move out across the countryside to take the towns I do not think we can afford to linger. I think we will all breathe easier once we are safe within the walls of Pagenia… and the town will certainly provide more comforts than we will be able to find on this journey."

"Even so…"

"Oh for goodness sake Herodion," Lady Ianthe burst out. "Listen to the young man. He and his friends have not led us wrong so far. Neither Iollas nor I are so delicate that we cannot withstand a sterner pace or less sleep for a couple of days and the children are far hardier than you think. If I believe that either of them are suffering I will not hesitate to speak out but for now let us follow what Jason has suggested."

Lord Herodion sighed.

"Very well," he rumbled. "Then let us waste no more time."

Jason nodded. He looked around at his companions.

"Let's go," he said.

* * *

 _It was late at night and the city streets were all but deserted. Jason was making his way home but the urge to sleep dogged him, making his footsteps heavy and slow. At one of the water fountains he stopped to take a drink and splash some water on his face, hoping to wake himself up a little. As he straightened, he froze; someone was behind him; someone was watching him. With deliberate slowness, he turned._

 _There was no-one there._

 _Jason frowned. He could have sworn he could feel himself being watched._

 _He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see the back of someone disappearing down a side street. Jason hurried after them, feeling almost compelled to follow. No matter how fast he went, however, he just didn't seem to be able to catch up. The cloaked figure disappeared through a doorway. Jason followed and started to descend the wooden stairs that he found on the other side of the door._

 _At the bottom, he stopped and stared, disconcerted to find himself in a cave. He turned in a slow circle to look at the stairs he had come down only to find that they weren't there. His eyes darted around warily as he turned back around. Ahead of him was a pool of water._

 _Jason swallowed hard. He knew this place; knew that the cave was high in the mountains of the Sun; knew that this was where the witch Circe had died._

" _Did you really think it was over?"_

 _Circe's mocking voice came from somewhere behind him, but no matter which way Jason turned he just couldn't quite see her._

" _You broke your oath and now the Gods will punish you." The witch sounded almost gleeful._

" _Where are you?" Jason demanded. "Show yourself."_

 _Circe gave that strange mocking laugh that Jason remembered only too well. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up._

 _Almost unconsciously, he pulled back the edge of his left wrist brace and stared at the brand marring the skin there that had disappeared when Circe had died; feeling once again the pain from the burn._

" _You will never be free of me," Circe mocked, "and Hecate will come for you. She will wreak her vengeance upon you."_

 _She stalked around from behind Jason and turned to face him. Jason recoiled slightly. The knife he had used to kill her months ago was still embedded in her stomach._

" _Need I remind you that you swore an oath," the witch declared. "And I warned you that if you broke it, it would not just be your life that I took."_

 _She reached out and trailed a hand down the side of Jason's face. Her skin was ice cold and Jason couldn't help but shudder at her touch._

" _The Gods will punish you and those you love," Circe promised with another scornful laugh as she stalked back around his back._

 _Jason turned to look at her, only to find that she had vanished. He span back around warily, half expecting her to attack him._

 _On the floor of the cave there were several mounds covered by sheets that Jason would swear hadn't been there a moment before. Fear gripped his stomach and he stepped towards them, his breathing speeding up as his dread increased. He stopped beside the first mound and crouched down, wide-eyed and breathing hard. Taking the edge of the sheet, he pulled it back to see Pythagoras lying cold and white on the floor before him, dead eyes staring unseeingly at the ceiling above._

Jason tossed fitfully in his sleep, half rousing from the nightmare before plunging straight back into another dream.

 _He stepped in time to the drumbeat, following the procession of priests, past the ranks of guards lining the courtyard to the Temple. Ahead of him, at the top of the steps, he could see Melas waiting, his hands outstretched in a position of prayer. Alongside him he sensed rather than saw Ariadne, also moving slowly in time to the drum, head held high, facing forwards, as they both tried not to glance at one another._

 _At the top of the steps they paused._

" _Are you ready?" Melas asked in his deep melodious voice._

" _Yes," Ariadne answered for them both, her tone certain._

 _Jason's mouth was dry. He resisted the urge to lick his lips, knowing that that would be frowned upon._

 _Melas smiled kindly._

" _Do not worry," he intoned._

" _What if the omens are bad?" Jason found himself asking._

" _Do you believe that what you are doing is for the best? For Atlantis and its people?"_

" _Yes," Jason answered._

" _Then trust in the Gods and in yourself," Melas responded. "For there is no truer guide than your heart."_

 _The great doors to the Temple opened, revealing the cavernous interior and the people waiting within. Jason unconsciously straightened and prepared to step forwards; to take another step towards the destiny that the Oracle kept prophesying for him. It was time._

The dream faded away as Jason began to wake. Still more asleep than awake, he half opened his eyes. Hercules was sitting on guard on the far side of the ravine, his back to Jason. For a moment, the young man stared at the reassuring figure of his bulky friend, mind still too rooted in sleep to really be aware. Then he rolled over and closed his eyes, descending into troubled sleep once more.

 _A man in a dark cloak stole through the corridors of the Palace, hood pulled up to cover his head, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. The sounds of distant battle came to him on the night breeze. It was only a matter of time before it drew close – perhaps even encroaching on the Palace itself. The man paused and sighed. There was little he could do to stop this and he had a mission to fulfil._

 _As he entered the family wing, he paused to look around nervously, face caught for the first time in the glow of a lit torch. He was young, perhaps in his mid-twenties – certainly no older – with mid brown hair, steely grey eyes and slightly coarse features. He was worried, knowing that what he was about to do would be viewed as treason if he was caught, and that he was about to break a mother's heart if he was not. There was no choice though. If he allowed events to take their course without him all would be lost._

 _On silent feet the man slipped in through the door of the nursery and over to the cradle on the far side of the room, peering into it. The child inside looked back at him sleepily. The man jumped, startled that the boy was awake. He was not yet old enough to be truly called a child; was little more than a baby if truth be told; only a year or so old._

" _Hello Jason," the man said softly, picking the boy up. "We are going to be taking a little walk together."_

 _He wrapped the child carefully in a blanket, gently jiggling him on his shoulder until he felt the boy drift off to sleep once more._

 _The door to the nursery opened and for a moment the man felt a flash of terror until he realised that it was his accomplice coming to join him; a soldier apparently loyal to Minos, dressed in the uniform of a guard._

" _Everything went to plan?" the man asked the newcomer._

" _Yes," the guard answered. "You have the boy?"_

 _The man resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was obvious that he had the Prince in his arms._

" _Yes," he retorted shortly._

 _The guard nodded grimly._

" _Very well then," he said. "I guess there's not much more to say. I will set things up here… splash a bit of pig's blood on the sheets and then pretend to make a run for it. I reckon they'll catch me before I get too far."_

 _The man nodded grimly. This was all part of the plan after all but it did not mean that he had to like it._

" _When they catch you they will not be gentle," he said._

" _I know," the guard admitted. "I volunteered for this knowing I wouldn't be coming out of the other end… but if it means keeping his little Highness there safe then it will be worth it. My death will not be in vain."_

 _The man holding the baby swallowed hard and nodded._

" _Your sacrifice will be remembered," he said softly. "May the Gods look kindly on you and I hope that we will meet again one day in Elysium."_

 _He started for the door but at the last minute veered back to the cradle and on impulse snatched the necklace hanging over it, stuffing the gold crescent into a pouch at his belt._

" _Come on," the guard urged. "We do not have much time."_

 _He peered out into the corridor, motioning the man carrying the baby forwards._

" _May the Gods go with you," he added before shoving the man out of the door._

 _The man paused in the corridor to wrap his dark cloak around the child before hurrying off towards his intended exit. The sounds of battle drew ever closer._

 _Ahead of him there was the sound of running feet. The man drew back into an alcove, trying to hide in the shadows and praying to the Gods that he was not caught. Finally the sounds died away and he heaved a sigh of relief before continuing on._

 _He slipped into one of the servants passages unnoticed and made his way to one of the side entrances to the Palace; a door that he had earlier made sure was unlocked and unguarded. Having checked that the street was deserted, he stepped out into it and hurried away from the Palace, making his way towards a house near to the Telapius Gate where he knew there would be someone waiting for him._

 _At the door of the house, he rapped out a set pattern and waited until the door swung open before stepping through it. Inside there was a man anxiously waiting for his arrival. This was the former King – although he no longer looked like a king, dressed as he was in the clothes of a labourer._

" _You have my son?" he asked._

" _Yes," the man answered shortly, passing the child into his father's greedy arms._

 _Aeson turned back the edge of the blanket and smiled down at the slumbering child._

" _Jason," he said almost reverently._

 _When he looked up though, it was with narrow, hardened eyes._

" _Why are you helping me?" he demanded. "By all accounts you are Minos' closest friend."_

" _I am," Herodion answered. "We have been friends since childhood."_

" _Then why?"_

" _Because for all his faults I do not believe that Minos would wish to see the child come to harm," Herodion replied. "He has stated his intention of raising the boy with his own children… since everyone believes that you are dead. There are those in his court, however, who would see Jason as a threat… Who would not hesitate to see the child dead. I have heard them plotting. I cannot stand by and see that happen but these are men who Minos must rely on – at least for now. Whatever has gone between us… between Minos and you… I will not see the boy killed. Besides which, the Oracle sent for me. She asked for my help in this matter. I cannot defy the will of the Gods even if I wanted to."_

" _You will not tell Minos of this?" Aeson asked._

" _What good would it do?" Herodion retorted bitterly. "It will be safest for Jason if everyone believes him to be dead. I cannot tell Minos the truth and then ask him to keep it from the boy's mother… and it would seem needlessly cruel to tell her that her son is alive but that she will never see him again. Better that she should think he is dead so that she might grieve and eventually move passed it… Besides, I cannot believe that Pasiphae would simply allow you to spirit the boy away. If she knew that he was still alive she would hunt you to the ends of the earth."_

 _Aeson smiled scornfully._

" _How well you seem to know her," he murmured. He looked down at his sleeping son and his smile softened again._

" _Where will you go?" Herodion asked._

 _Aeson snorted._

" _What does it matter to you?" he demanded. "You picked the right side – the winning side. You won. I lost."_

" _It does not matter to me at all," Herodion conceded. "I merely wondered."_

" _We will go far from here," Aeson stated. "Somewhere where we will never be found. I still have a few friends who are willing to assist me and they will help me to take Jason to safety. It would perhaps be best if you do not know where we are going… then you can never reveal the truth – even inadvertently."_

Jason muttered and rolled over in his sleep again, but the dreams that held him in their grip weren't quite ready to let him go just yet, fleeting images flickering through his mind.

 _The prow of a great ship crested a wave in heavy seas, the painted eye making it look like some kind of mythical beast. The name of the ship was obscured from view by the rolling waves. Thunder crashed overhead and the prow dipped down as the waves buffeted it._

 _Ariadne, dressed in a beautiful gold trimmed gown, screamed at the sky as a knife dropped from her bloodstained hands._

 _Row upon row of Atlantian soldiers dropped to on knee in the traditional manner of genuflection, awaiting their orders. They were lined up in the courtyard in front of the Palace. Jason moved to the top of the steps and surveyed them, preparing himself to rally them to the cause. At his back he could feel his mother's triumphant presence looking on._

 _A Palace guard sank down through deep water, coming to rest on the newly created sea bed. Nearby were the fragmented remains of a pillar and beyond that the great bull statue from the Temple lay broken and on its side._

 _Hercules lay on his back with a knife buried deep in his stomach, hands clutching at the hilt and blood bubbling up from his mouth as he took his last gurgling breaths._

Jason woke up with a gasp to feel a small hand on his arm trying to shake him. He opened his eyes to find the little boy they had rescued from Athanos kneeling next to him, his eyes frightened and his lower lip trembling. Jason swallowed hard and tried to control his erratic breathing. He pushed himself up to sit and attempted to smile for the sake of the child. Scrubbing one hand across his face, he was startled to discover that his cheeks were wet.

"Hey," he said gently to the child. "Are you alright?"

The little boy nodded, although he still looked scared.

"Yes," he whispered. He bit his lip. "You were crying."

These were the first words the child had said since leaving Athanos. Jason purposefully didn't react or draw attention to the fact, drawing on his own experiences to help him now.

"I was just having a bad dream," he told the child. "There's no reason to be worried." He pulled the boy in for a hug. "Thank you for waking me up."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Hercules watching them carefully from his position on the far side of the small ravine where they had stopped to rest.

Jason turned back to the child and smiled.

"What is your name?" he asked.

The boy gnawed on his lip.

"I'm Kimon," he said eventually, "and my sister is Dorothea."

"I'm Jason," Jason introduced himself, "and I am very pleased to meet you." His smile brightened a little. "How old are you Kimon?" he asked.

"I am five," Kimon replied proudly. "Dorothea is just a baby. She was born at the last Olympieia."

Jason presumed that that was some sort of festival and made a mental note to ask Pythagoras about it later.

The child in his arms wriggled slightly, apparently trying to get into a more comfortable position.

"My mother and father aren't coming back, are they?" he asked. "They were lying in the street and they wouldn't wake up… and then you came and took us away. I am not going to see them again am I?"

Jason sighed. He felt singularly unqualified to deal with this. He was sure Pythagoras would deal with this conversation far better than he ever could but Pythagoras was still asleep.

"No," he answered softly. "I am afraid not." He sighed again. "I wish I could tell you that everything was going to be alright and that I was going to take you to them but I cannot."

He paused, frowning, not entirely sure how much a child this young would understand.

"Do you know what happens when someone dies?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes," Kimon answered, lisping faintly. "They go to the underworld and you don't see them again. I had a little brother before Dorothea was born and my mother said that he went to the underworld." He looked at Jason and bit his lip again. "Is that where my mother and father have gone?"

Jason grimaced.

"I am afraid so," he replied.

Kimon started to sob quietly. Jason pulled the boy into his lap and instinctively rocked him gently. Finally, the child's cries died down and he turned a tear stained face to Jason.

"What is going to happen to Dorothea and me?" he asked, sniffling.

"I don't know," Jason answered honestly. "Do you have any other family? Any aunts and uncles? Or grandparents?"

Kimon shook his head dumbly.

 _Of course not_ , Jason thought cynically. _It's never that easy_.

He looked seriously at the child in his lap.

"I promise you that we will make sure that you and Dorothea are fine," he said earnestly. "We will find you someone nice to live with who will look after you both."

It was something Jason felt very strongly about. He nearly winced at his own words, however, remembering all too well how his early social workers had promised him much the same thing.

"That is not something that you need to worry about," Lady Ianthe said, startling both Jason and the little boy.

She sat down next to Jason and held her arms out for Kimon to wriggle into. It was to her credit that she did not make a fuss of the fact that the little boy was suddenly speaking after days of silence.

"You are safe with us my love… and I will make sure that whatever happens you will be loved and looked after," she went on, smiling gently at the boy and pushing his dark hair back from his hot face, still wet from crying. "Would you like some breakfast?" she added.

Kimon nodded enthusiastically. Ianthe laugh softly.

"All little boys are the same," she murmured to Jason. "I think they are born hungry."

She looked kindly at Kimon.

"Come on then," she said, standing up with him in her arms. "Let us see what we have that you might like."

She moved back across the ravine towards the saddle bags. Jason watched her go with a bittersweet smile. He looked around. It was somewhere near dawn and could only be a couple of hours since they had stopped for a rest. Jason grimaced. Much as he had only intended them to have a few hours' rest, he had still hoped to get a little more sleep than he had. Fortunately for his companions (aside from Ianthe, Kimon and Hercules – who was still on guard), the rest of the party still seemed to be asleep.

Moving quietly, Jason packed up his blankets (knowing that any attempt to get back to sleep would be futile at this point) and made his way over to where Hercules was sitting.

"You should have tried to get back to sleep for a bit," the burly wrestler growled as Jason sat down next to him.

"I am wide awake now," Jason replied quietly.

"Hmm," Hercules grunted. He looked shrewdly at his young friend. "And what sleep you had didn't look exactly peaceful," he remarked. "I was about to come over when the little boy woke you up."

"I was fine," Jason protested. "It was just a bad dream."

He rolled his head in a circle and rubbed the back of his neck as Hercules glared at him with a sceptically raised eyebrow.

"Headache?" the big man asked.

"A slight one," Jason admitted. "It's not too bad… I will get something for it from Pythagoras when he wakes up."

"See that you do," Hercules grunted. "We will all need to be alert if we're going to get to Pagenia safely… and you won't be if your head is pounding." He looked away to the head of the ravine. "Want to talk about it?" he offered, without turning to look at Jason and deliberately keeping his tone casual.

"Nothing to talk about really," Jason answered, not attempting to pretend he didn't know what Hercules was alluding to. "Just weird dreams, you know?"

"What about?" Hercules asked.

"Oh... erm… there was one about Circe," Jason replied. "And there was another that had my Dad and Lord Herodion in it… only they were a lot younger. None of it really made all that much sense to be honest. They were just dreams. They didn't mean anything."

He didn't tell Hercules that he had also dreamt of the burly wrestler's death or of seeing Pythagoras' dead body; those were just a little too disturbing to think about and he decided he would rather not relive them through talking about them.

Hercules nodded thoughtfully.

"If you're sure," he said.

"I am," Jason answered firmly. He hesitated. "I know you think I'm not getting enough sleep," he said, "and maybe I'm not… but it will get better once we are back in Pagenia and I can get back into some sort of routine. I don't think any of us are really sleeping all that well out here."

"Maybe not," Hercules admitted. He snorted. "I never thought I would be saying this, but I worry," he added. "I worry about both you boys. You are the only friends I've really got."

Jason nodded awkwardly and looked away. He really wasn't very good at this sort of conversation; wasn't comfortable talking about feelings – whether they were somebody else's or his own.

"We will need to get moving quickly once the others are awake," he said, trying to change the subject. "We need to cover a fair bit of ground today. I want to be as close to the coast as possible by the time we stop for the night."

"Then we will need a good breakfast inside us," Lady Ianthe declared, approaching the two men. She still had Kimon in her arms, now munching on an apple. "Could I trouble one of you to light a fire for me?" she asked. "I have found barley in one of the packs and I believe we will all benefit from a warm bowl of porridge before we set off."

"She may have a point," Hercules rumbled to Jason. "A decent filling meal sounds like a good idea to me."

"Eating always sounds like a good idea to you," Jason replied, grinning at his friend. "I've never known you not to be hungry."

"Well that's better than being a skinny sack of bones," Hercules retorted, although his eyes were twinkling.

"Skinny sack of bones?" Jason returned, his grin growing wider. "I think you're getting me mixed up with Pythagoras… it must be your age. Everyone says that the first thing to go is your memory."

He ducked quickly as Hercules aimed a cuff at the back of his head and scrambled back out of range.

"Cheeky pup!" the big man growled. "I'll give you 'must be your age'… come back here and I'll show what this old man can do."

Jason couldn't restrain a chuckle; that bright giggle that really shouldn't sound right coming from a fully-grown man and yet did. He stood up and turned towards Lady Ianthe, who was trying not to smile at their antics but not quite succeeding. It made her look much younger – closer to the age she almost certainly was.

"I will get some wood and get the fire going," he said with one last chuckle.

Lady Ianthe nodded.

"Then I will get the porridge ready to cook," she replied. "We have berries to put on it and I believe I saw a comb of honey in one of the packs." She smiled. "By the time the others awake we should have a good breakfast prepared for them."

* * *

The last couple of days on the journey to Pagenia seemed to fly by in a haze. They had ridden hard through the foothills, skirting the bases of large rocky outcrops that weren't quite mountains, stopping for a few hours every so often and stealing what sleep they could, before pushing on again.

By the time they hit the coast and turned west towards their destination, they were all desperately tired but still forcing themselves onwards as fast as they could; keen to reach the comforts of the town as swiftly as possible.

They were within a day's ride of Pagenia and had stopped to take a break and have a midday meal – cold fare taken from the rapidly diminishing supplies in the saddlebags. With luck (and a little more hard riding) they should reach the safety of the town by this time tomorrow.

Jason decided that he would be glad to get there. Pagenia was not home in the way that Atlantis was, but it would be good to get back within the walls of the royal estate; to be relieved of the burden of ensuring the safety of Lord Herodion and his family (even if it was a task he has volunteered for). He realised with some surprise that he was missing his mother; missing his new family. He mulled that thought over as he stood at the top of the cliffs where they had stopped to eat, looking out over the sea.

He scrubbed a weary hand over his face. God he was tired. He hadn't slept properly in days (weeks really) and it was all beginning to catch up with him a little.

"I will be glad when we reach our destination."

Lord Herodion's soft voice at Jason's shoulder made the young man jump. He turned slightly to look at the older man.

"Indeed," he agreed. "I think we will all be relieved to reach the safety of Pagenia. At least once we are there we will be free from the fear of an immediate Amphigeneian attack."

Herodion looked out across the frothing waves.

"The thought of being attacked by an Amphigeneian patrol out here in the wilderness does not worry me now," he replied firmly.

"You must have great faith in your protectors," Jason said with just the hint of an amused smile.

"After the last few days I do indeed," Herodion answered. He glanced sideways at Jason. "In case I do not get the opportunity to say it once we have reached Pagenia, thank you for all you and your friends have done for my family."

"It was nothing," Jason replied. "I have only done my duty."

"No," Herodion disagreed, his eyes probing. "It was more than that."

He paused for a moment and looked back out to sea thoughtfully.

"It would seem that your friend Pythagoras was correct," he added.

"About what?" Jason asked.

"The boy," Lord Herodion answered. "He did indeed begin to speak when he was ready… I cannot help but wonder though how your friend acquired the experience to know that."

"That is a very long story," Jason murmured. "And forgive me if I seem rude, but I do not actually know you well enough to want to tell it."

Herodion half smiled.

"Are you always so… forthright?" he asked.

Jason considered the question.

"Pretty much," he replied.

"That must have been a trial for your parents as you were growing up," Herodian remarked.

"My parents?" Jason asked blankly.

"Yes, I… forgive me. Perhaps I misunderstood," Herodion answered. "That night in the forest when we encountered the Amphigeneian detachment, I overheard Hercules commenting that "your mother will skin us all alive if anything happens to you"… or at least I believe that is what he said. I took that to mean that your parents were people of influence and that you were close to them."

"I have not seen or spoken to my father in years," Jason answered shortly. "He was not part of my life while I was growing up."

Strictly speaking it was the truth, he told himself. After all, he hadn't actually known who Aeson was when they had met in the mines of Pangeon and his father had chosen not to identify himself; not to acknowledge the relationship between himself and Jason. That knowledge still stung more than Jason would like to admit.

"As for my mother," he added. "We have only recently met again. She was also not part of my life whilst I was growing up." He paused for a moment. "You will forgive me but it is a long and complicated story which once again I do not wish to talk about with someone I don't know well."

"I understand," Lord Herodion rumbled gently. "I am sorry if I have caused offence."

"You haven't," Jason assured him. "It's just not something I really want to talk about."

"You are nobly born though, aren't you?" Herodion asked casually, still looking out to sea. "My wife was correct in what she said back in Athanos. Minos would never have picked a peasant – no matter how brave and loyal – to be his champion."

"I suppose you could say that my parents were members of the nobility," Jason replied awkwardly, "but does it actually matter?"

"No," the older man murmured. "I was merely curious. After all it is a strange circumstance to see a child of the nobility dressing in peasant garb and friends with peasants."

"Hercules and Pythagoras were my friends before I even met my mother," Jason said. "They are the closest thing I've ever had to family before now. We look after one another; protect one another… and I will not give up their friendship for anything or anyone."

"And does your mother agree with that?"

"My mother has no choice in the matter," Jason answered hotly. "Who I choose to be friends with is nobody's business but mine."

Herodion looked at him and smiled.

Jason frowned.

"Was there something funny in what I said?" he demanded.

"No," Herodion answered. "It is just that when you are angry you remind me very much of someone that I used to know many years ago."

"Who?" Jason asked.

"It is of no matter," his companion replied. "She became the wife of a friend… It is many years since I last saw her… but she had the same fire in her eyes when she was angry; the same expression." He looked back out over the sea once more. "Will your mother be waiting for you in Pagenia?" he asked.

"Um… yes," Jason said. "Why do you ask?"

He wasn't entirely sure where Lord Herodion was going with this particular conversation, but he was growing increasingly uncomfortable with it.

"Idle curiosity again," Herodion answered smoothly. "When Hercules referred to what your mother would do to him if he allowed you to come to harm I assumed that that meant she was not in Atlantis and presumed that she must be in Pagenia instead. Does she live there permanently?"

Jason looked sharply at his companion but he couldn't detect any malice in Lord Herodion's face. Perhaps it was as he had said and he was merely curious. Still, Jason couldn't help but be a little on guard.

"No," he answered. "She does not live in Pagenia. She is just visiting."

"How fortunate that she was away from Atlantis when the city fell," Herodion murmured idly. "You must have been relieved that she was safe."

"Indeed," Jason replied. "I have been lucky. Most of the people who I care about are no longer in Atlantis and I hope and pray that those who still are, are safe."

"Your mother has other children to stay with her in your absence? You have siblings?"

"No," Jason answered. "I'm an only child as far as I know… listen, why are you so interested in my family?"

"It is simply a way to pass the time until everyone has finished eating and resting and we are ready to set off again," Lord Herodion answered, gesturing behind himself to where their other companions were still finishing off their midday meal. "I mean no harm by it. I just wished to understand my travelling companions a little better."

"We'd better be getting ready to move soon anyway," Jason replied. "We should reach Pagenia around this time tomorrow if we don't dawdle too much now. If you don't mind I'm going to check on the horses."

"Of course," Herodion said. He looked sideways at his companion one last time. "I should imagine you will be pleased to see your mother again… and that she will be relieved to see you returned safely."

"I hope so," Jason replied softly. "Although she'll probably be cross if she thinks I have done something reckless… and she didn't really approve of this trip in the first place." He smiled wryly. "My mother can be quite formidable when she's angry," he admitted. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

Lord Herodion turned and smiled, watching him leave.

"Yes," he murmured to himself once the young man was out of earshot. "Pasiphae always was formidable when she was angry."


	19. Chapter 19

A/N Well I'm finally back with Chapter 19. I really hope there's still someone reading and I'm sorry it's taken so long, but in my defence we're in the middle of a house move and I really ought to be packing rather than writing...

This is more of a linking chapter than anything but I still hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you do. :-)

* * *

Minos toyed with his goblet of wine thoughtfully as he lingered over his midday meal. It wasn't often that he had the luxury of taking as long as he would like, especially recently, so he fully intended to take as much advantage as he could.

There was only so much negotiating and planning that he and the other kings could do without a break so it had been decreed that they would all take a day of rest and relaxation today – something that Minos was glad of. Over the past few weeks he had been stretching himself rather thinly after all. His health still wasn't as good as it had been in days of old; his illness a few short months ago had taken its toll and, although he had fully recovered, regaining his formerly strong constitution was taking somewhat longer than he had hoped it would.

When they had first decided to take this day off, Minos had toyed with the idea of going hunting with King Laius. The Theban monarch was a good enough companion on such an excursion, even if he was almost unnaturally lucky where hunting was concerned – as Minos had discovered to his cost when Laius had visited Atlantis. This morning had proved to be decidedly miserable however – cold and wet – and the Atlantian King was glad that he had decided not to suggest the idea to Laius but had chosen to spend a little time with his family instead.

Laius, for his part, had received an invitation to spend a day in the company of Agrias of Tanagra and his son. Minos could not say he was unhappy to be freed of the prospect of having to spend another day in the company of Agrias and he suspected that Ariadne would be grateful to be able to avoid Prince Chalcon for the day too.

He sighed. The Tanagran Prince seemed pleasant enough (which was more than could be said for his father) and under different circumstances Minos could even have seen him making Ariadne reasonably happy. As things were though, Ariadne's heart seemed to be so firmly fixed on Jason that the King could not see a truly joyful outcome for his daughter. Oh, she would be dutiful enough – would play her part to perfection – but it would not be the happy future he had hoped for her (because he _did_ want her to be happy and loved as any good father would).

Still, it could not be helped as far as he could see. They needed Agrias' help (no matter how galling it might be to admit that) and this was the price – at least for now. Minos was not as naïve as his wife believed; he knew she would be actively seeking a way to break the engysis without bringing dishonour onto him. For all that she was only a woman, Pasiphae had one of the finest political minds that Minos had ever seen. If it was at all possible for them to find a way to get out of the situation they found themselves in with regards to Agrias and his demands, Pasiphae would do it. Minos was in no doubt on that score.

She hadn't told him that that was what she was doing of course; she was far too clever for that. Since he did not know precisely what she had planned, Minos could truthfully deny all knowledge if things went wrong. It was a very good tactic.

Minos turned to look at his wife appreciatively. Pasiphae was nibbling distractedly on a sweet pastry. The past days had been hard on her yet no-one who did not know her well would be able to tell. Minos suspected she was worrying about her son, although she gave no obvious outward sign. To be completely honest, he would be pleased to see the party that had gone to fetch Herodion and his family back too. Partly because he was looking forwards to seeing his old friend again and partly (it had to be said) because he had grown far fonder of his stepson than he would have believed possible before he had come to know the boy.

They had hoped to see some sign of the travellers a couple of days ago, although Minos admitted to himself that that would have been a little early to be honest; they would have had to make almost inhumanly quick time to get here from Athanos that quickly. He knew that as the days passed Pasiphae would become increasingly anxious. Whilst Jason was not late yet, his mother was still concerned and her concern was making her increasingly waspish; not so much that it would be remarked upon but enough to put the servants on edge.

"Father, might I be excused?"

Ariadne's light voice roused the King from his thoughts and he turned his head to smile at his beautiful daughter.

"If you have finished eating then of course you may," he said gently. "Do you have somewhere that you need to be?"

"I promised Melas that I would take a basket of herbs from the garden to the temple," Ariadne answered, "and of course I have my usual duties to perform there… Afterwards, as far as I am aware, there is a dressmaker coming to see me."

She looked at her stepmother questioningly.

"Indeed there is," Pasiphae said smoothly, placing her half-eaten pastry back on her plate. "She is coming to see us both. Appearances are everything," she continued, talking directly to her husband. "You know that better than anyone. If we are to hold dinners for the other kings and to make them believe you are still a force to be reckoned with – that you are fully capable of regaining Atlantis – then we must appear to be undiminished by our exile. It must seem that we still have resources to hand despite us bartering for our allies' aid and part of that is how we dress and how we appear. If Ariadne and I wear the same dresses to every dinner it will give the impression that we cannot afford more. I do not intend to have whole wardrobes made but one or two more dresses will not go amiss. I will select some fabrics and have a couple of chitons made up for you also. It will give the right impression, My Lord."

"I would not object if you wanted a hundred dresses my love," Minos declared. "Although I might question the wisdom of you having so many made at such a time as this. You are right though – the impression that we give through our appearance is important… especially at a time like this. I will be guided by you in this matter."

He hesitated for a moment, knowing that Pasiphae might take offence at what he was about to say; knowing that she might see it as criticism of her abilities to guide her son.

"I would hope that you would instruct Jason in this when he returns to Pagenia," he said carefully.

"My Lord?" Pasiphae responded icily, beginning to bristle.

"I am not displeased with the boy," Minos said hurriedly. "He has many qualities that I admire and should be fostered… but you have admitted yourself that he also has many rough edges that must be smoothed away Pasiphae… and that will not happen overnight. It would be foolish indeed to expect Jason to have learned everything that you have to teach him in the short time he has been with us, and I do _not_ expect it. Watching his behaviour at the feasts we have held for my fellow monarchs and at the strategy meetings… Jason is a credit to you, my love; a credit to your teaching."

He smiled as he watched Pasiphae relax, somewhat mollified.

"That being said, I have noticed a certain… laxity in his appearance at times," the King went on. "I understand that in his life in the city he has not been required to consider how he might appear to anyone else but now he is here with us he will quite naturally become the object of increasing scrutiny. I would not have him subject to criticism simply through his own inattention to the niceties and the outward impression that he makes. The boy's nature is unbridled – a free spirit – and, while I would not for the world see his nature altered to any great extent, you know as well as I do, Pasiphae, that there are those who would censure him for it. He must learn to control himself in public so as not to offend those whose support he may later need to rely upon… and part of that will undoubtedly come from his appearance. All I am asking, my love, is that Jason should at least attempt to be neat and tidy in public."

"I will see to it that it is impressed upon him, My Lord," Pasiphae answered stiffly.

"Whilst you are at it, perhaps you could impress upon Jason that tables are for eating off, the floor is for walking on and chairs are for sitting on and the three should _not_ be confused," Minos went on. "I noticed back in Atlantis that he has a tendency to use furniture for other than intended purposes but it highly inappropriate that a prince of Atlantis should be found sitting on a table when there are perfectly good chairs for him to use." He looked seriously at Pasiphae. "I would also wish you to inform him that running his fingers through his hair is not a substitute for using a comb." He paused and sighed. "I am perhaps being a little unfair. It is just that in every other respect Jason has proved to be a quick study – has learned everything you have endeavoured to teach him – and has far exceeded my expectations. I would not have him subject to comment and censure over what amount to trivial matters. I find myself growing fond of your son, my love, and I would not see him looked down on for such small things."

"It shall be as you request, My Lord," Pasiphae answered shortly.

Minos restrained himself from wincing at the tone of her voice. He had not meant to put his wife's back up after all. Perhaps a change of subject might help matters; he was sure that once Pasiphae had calmed down a little she would agree with everything he had said anyway.

"I had thought we might spend a little time in one another's company this afternoon," he said, looking at Pasiphae. "There are documents which require my attention, as there are undoubtedly duties which require yours, yet I had hoped we might at least look to our individual tasks in one another's company."

"As you wish," Pasiphae replied, her tone still a little cold.

"And perhaps after your dressmaker has been we might take a walk in the gardens together – the weather permitting, of course," Minos went on. "I do not believe that either one of us would wish to walk in the rain after all." He paused for a moment. "I know that you must naturally be concerned for Jason and eagerly awaiting his return, but I truly believe that he and his friends will come back safely to Pagenia. They are far from overdue yet and I have ensured that the patrols I have sent out into the land surrounding the town will keep a lookout for them."

Pasiphae gave him a startled look, surprised by his thoughtfulness.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"It was nothing," Minos answered dismissively. "It took but a moment to instruct Dion to order the patrols to watch for them. It cost me no time or effort at all."

"Nevertheless I am grateful that you thought of it," Pasiphae said.

Her gratitude was genuine. Jason might be beyond her help at present but she couldn't help but grow anxious the longer he was gone. It was ridiculous, she decided; she was become weak; becoming _sentimental_ – and yet she could not seem to help herself.

Ariadne pushed herself up from the table and smiled sweetly at her father.

"I will see you at supper," she said softly. "Do we have guests tonight?"

"No," Minos answered. "King Laius will be dining with King Agrias and Prince Chalcon and will not be returning until late. We shall not have company this evening."

It saddened him a little to see his daughter visibly relax.

"I must attend to my duties," Ariadne said, "but perhaps we could spend a little time in one another's company tonight?"

Minos stood and kissed the girl on the forehead.

"You have no idea what a comfort it is to me to have such a kind and dutiful daughter," he replied softly. "I will look forwards to this evening. Give my regards to Melas."

Once Ariadne had gone, he turned back to the Queen.

"If you have finished, my love, shall we retire to my private council chamber where we might both turn to our tasks undisturbed?" he asked.

"Indeed," Pasiphae answered. She gestured to a hovering servant with a curt wave of her hand. "Inform Alexarchos that I require the latest figures for both the estate and city storehouses," she told the trembling girl. "Have them brought to the King's private council chamber." She looked coolly at her husband. "With all the feasts and dinners you are required to host for our allies benefit it is vital that we ensure our supplies do not run low," she said.

"Of course," Minos replied. "I leave the ordering of the estate in your more than capable hands."

The afternoon passed quickly. Although they did not talk, both engaged in their own tasks, Minos felt comfortable in his wife's company; there was a feeling of peace and tranquillity that pervaded the room that he had been sorely lacking over the past few weeks – ever since the siege began to be honest. He was determined to use the time to recharge himself in preparation for the weeks ahead.

Around mid-afternoon, the King began to feel himself growing a little hungry. The midday meal was now several hours behind him and supper was still several hours ahead. Perhaps he should call for a servant. Would it be indulgent to request a plate of fruit and pastries? And maybe some wine?

His eyes strayed to his wife's form. Pasiphae was working quietly at a table on the far side of the room, comparing lists and figures. Occasionally she made a quick annotation on a piece of parchment that she had in front of her.

Minos sat back and watched her work, smiling softly to himself, taking in the elegant grace of her every movement with pleasure. Gods but she was still beautiful, even after all these years of marriage.

There were things he wished to discuss with Pasiphae though; ideas and plans. Pasiphae's sharp political mind made her the best person to talk to. It couldn't be long until she would have to go to deal with the dressmaker though. Time to put work to one side then.

A diffident tapping at the door made Minos turn. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Pasiphae look up with a frown.

"Come," he ordered.

It would be a servant – and probably a lower ranking one at that; he was certain of that from the tone of the knock. Anyone with any sort of authority would not knock in quite such a deferential way. His mind turned once more to whether he should order a plate of food and some wine. Perhaps Pasiphae might like some of those honey cakes she was so fond of; Minos knew his wife's sweet tooth only too well.

"Your Majesty, please forgive this intrusion," the girl who spoke was almost trembling.

"What is it?" Minos demanded impatiently. "Come on girl, speak up."

"M…master Alexarchos sent me My Lord," the girl replied, her voice barely audible. "He t…told me to inform you that the people you have been waiting for have ridden in through the west gate of the town and will be here shortly."

She looked anxiously at Minos with big doe eyes; frightened that she would be punished for interrupting the King and Queen's private work time despite the order from the estate overseer to do so.

Minos let out a deep breath and smiled widely.

"Thank you," he said to the girl. "Inform Master Alexarchos that we will be greeting them on the stylobate… and that they will be joining us for supper." He paused thoughtfully for a moment. "Also I will require rooms to be set aside for their refreshment before supper… and inform Master Alexarchos that I will wish to see him after we have greeted out guests to discuss where in the town they might best be housed."

"Yes Your Majesty," the girl replied, bobbing a quick curtsy and hurrying back out of the room, still trembling faintly.

"You see, my love," Minos said to Pasiphae. "They are returned safely."

"It would seem so," Pasiphae answered, gathering up the pieces of parchment she had been working on and tying them into tidy rolls. "Although we cannot know that they are completely unscathed until they actually arrive here."

"Then let us go and greet them Pasiphae," Minos stated firmly. "I will admit that I will be delighted to see Herodion again," he added. "I have missed both his wisdom and his company for too long… and I am relieved that Jason is back here with us. Strange as it may sound, I have missed the boy and his odd ways."

* * *

There was a definite chill in the breeze that caught at Pasiphae's bare arms, as she stood at the top of the steps alongside her husband awaiting the arrival of her son and his party. She resisted the urge to shiver as the slight wind caught the folds of the long diaphanous silk veil that was attached by combs to the hair at the back of her head, making it flutter.

The air was still heavy with rain; fat drops that splattered onto the enclosed courtyard. Fortunately, the stylobate itself was half covered with a large portico, meaning that the King and Queen of Atlantis could still keep dry while they awaited the arrival of the group.

With every moment that passed, Pasiphae could feel her impatience growing. Surely they should have managed to travel from the western gate to here by now? It wasn't that far after all and she had presumed that they wouldn't dawdle. She pursed her lips and restrained an irritated sigh. If she found out that someone was to blame for detaining Jason she would make them live to regret it.

Then – finally – she heard the sound of horses approaching and the party rode in through the archway into the courtyard. She forced herself to stay impassive as the group came to the bottom of the steps; to remain the perfect untouchable elegant Queen. With studied care Pasiphae allowed her eyes to drift across the group, seemingly uncaringly – and if her eyes lingered for a second longer on her son? Well, who would really notice?

The entire group looked tired, wet and cold. The journey from Athanos to here hard clearly been an arduous one if their appearances were anything to go by. Pasiphae frowned almost imperceptibly. She would have to instruct Alexarchos to ensure that hot baths were provided and perhaps some warm spiced wine. She allowed her eyes to range over the party again. Some hot pastries to nibble on to tide the newcomers over until supper seemed to be in order too.

"Lord Herodion," Minos greeted his old friend. "My prayers have been answered. I am relieved to find both you and your family safe."

"Your Majesty," Herodion answered, bowing low. "It is thanks to you that we survived the fall of Athanos. If you had not sent you men for us I fear what would have happened. I am forever in your debt."

Minos smiled.

"Come old friend," he said. "Let us go indoors where we might be warm and dry. There will be time enough for talking then."

He glanced at the rest of the group.

"Come inside," he instructed. "The servants will see to your horses and baggage."

He turned and made his way into the entrance hall, leading his old friend along the corridors of the house.

"I regret that you will have to be housed in the town," Minos went on as they walked. "But with so many of our allies here to confer with me space is not easy to find. I have sent instructions to our estate overseer to meet with me so that we might find the best possible rooms for you in town. In the meantime, you and your family will stay and dine with us tonight." It was not voiced as a question. "I have instructed that rooms should be arranged for you to refresh yourselves before then," he added.

"You are most kind, Your Majesty," Herodion murmured.

"Hardly," Minos answered, with a faintly amused smile. "You have no idea how pleased I am to see you, old friend," he said, stopping and turning towards his old friend and clasping Herodion's arm. "It has been far too long. I often think of the time that we spent together as boys. The memories… I remember those times with great fondness."

"As do I," Herodion replied. "And you are right… it _has_ been far too long, My Lord. I should have returned to visit Atlantis before now… It was just that I feared that if I came to Atlantis you would insist that I stayed… and my home – my place – was with my family… in Athanos."

"Perhaps I would have," Minos acknowledged. "Even our continued correspondence could not fully make up for the lack of your presence. There have been times when I have sorely missed your support and your immediate counsel; times when I struggled to know which way to turn. When Therus was lost to me… there have been dark days since we last saw one another – and these days are some of the darkest of all."

Herodion sighed.

"Forgive me Minos," he said softly. "I should have come when I was first told of what happened with Therus. I should have been there."

"You are here now and that is all that matters," Minos answered. "And I am happier than you will ever know that you are safely within these walls. Might I dare to expect your advice and help in my dealings with our allies? I could use your wisdom, old friend."

"And you shall have it," Herodion stated. "I understand from your men that you are planning to regain Atlantis…"

"Indeed," Minos replied. "But that is a subject that can wait until you are refreshed. I trust your journey was not too arduous?"

"It was a little more rigorous than I would have wished for my family, My Lord," his friend murmured. "We encountered a detachment of Amphigeneians in the woods… some three nights ago? Four?" Herodion turned to look at his companions for confirmation. "We rode hard after that and the days have somewhat blended into one."

The King frowned deeply; almost bordering on a scowl.

"Amphigeneians?" he demanded. "Where? Were they heading in this direction?"

It could be disastrous if they _were_ heading towards Pagenia. If word got back to Anaxandros that they were here and forming an army, the Amphigeneian King would send his full forces to fall on them and crush them before they were anywhere near ready.

"They were marching toward the town of Thera, Your Majesty," Jason answered. "We managed to get away without them seeing us so I wouldn't think we are in too much danger here at the moment."

Minos almost visibly relaxed, although he did turn to scrutinise Jason – just to assure himself that his stepson was unharmed by the journey.

"You are certain you were unseen?" he asked.

"Completely certain," Jason confirmed. "We were careful about that. They never saw any of us."

"Good," Minos replied, shortly. "Lady Ianthe," he said, turning towards Herodion's wife. "It is most remiss of me not to greet you properly. You are very welcome here."

Ianthe smiled and dropped the quick curtsey of a noble lady (as opposed to the full genuflection of a peasant), trying not to drop the baby she was carrying at the same time.

"Your Majesty," she said softly. "Forgive me for keeping Herodion from your side for so long. I was not much more than a girl when we left Atlantis and could scarcely have imagined we would not be returning; that we would make our lives elsewhere."

"It is strange to think that so many years have passed," Minos stated. "But you have grown lovelier with the years." He looked beyond her to Iollas. "And is this your son?" he asked.

"Yes, My Lord," Herodion rumbled. "This is Iollas."

"He seems a fine boy," Minos remarked. "I have no doubt he is a credit to you." He inclined his head to the young man. "You are also most welcome here, Iollas," he said.

Iollas stared at Minos with his mouth hanging open for a moment, clearly nonplussed at being spoken to by the King, until a swift dig in the ribs from his mother's elbow reminded him of his manners.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," he muttered awkwardly.

Minos' lips twitched as though he was suppressing an amused smile. He looked from Iollas to the little boy at his side and then to the baby in Ianthe's arms.

"Is there something you have been keeping from me old friend?" he asked, his amusement clear in his voice.

Herodion laughed.

"No," he replied. "The children are not mine." His face grew serious again. "They are foundlings, My Lord. Your men discovered them when Athanos fell huddled by the bodies of their parents. They rescued them and brought them with us."

"A sad story," Minos murmured. "These Amphigeneians are cruel indeed. They seem to know no mercy."

"What happened to Athanos was brutal," Herodion agreed. "I saw the town I had come to call home – had come to love – burn. I heard the screams from my neighbour's house; saw people that I knew – that I had spoken to only days before – lying dead and mutilated in the street; and knew that there was nothing I could do to save – or even to help – any of them."

He broke off suddenly, seemingly unable to continue.

Minos reached out and grasped his old friend's arm once more.

"We will not allow their atrocities to go unpunished," he promised. "We will throw them from our lands and make them regret that they ever left their own shores… And we will rebuild our towns… but we will _never_ forget."

Herodion nodded and clasped the King's arm in return.

"And I will aid you in any way I can," he vowed earnestly.

Minos looked at him thoughtfully.

"We must make some sort of provision for the children under the circumstances," he declared. "No doubt there will be a family in the town who will be willing to take them in… at least until they are old enough to be taught a trade. Perhaps the estate overseer might be encouraged to train them as servants once they are grown enough," he looked at Pasiphae as he said this, knowing that his wife would make the necessary arrangements, "or if not, the Temple of Poseidon will always need new acolytes. I will speak with Melas."

Herodion cast a quick glance at Ianthe.

"There is no need for you to concern yourself, My Lord," he said firmly. "The children will be remaining with us. My wife has grown fond of them and I do not believe our family will suffer in any way from the addition of two new members."

Pasiphae couldn't help but notice the startled look that passed between Pythagoras and Hercules, or the intense look that her son directed at Herodion. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Jason would need to be watched to make sure that she headed off any potentially damaging outbursts; it would not do for him to offend the King's closest friend by his outspokenness.

Fortunately for the Queen, however, despite the penetrating stare he was directing at Herodion, Jason stayed silent.

Minos raised an eyebrow.

"If you are certain…" he said.

"I am," Herodion confirmed.

"Very well," the King replied. "You will remember the Queen of course." He gestured towards Pasiphae.

"Of course," Herodion murmured, bowing to Pasiphae. "I am honoured to see you again My Lady."

Pasiphae allowed a faint, gracious smile to touch her lips. She had never actually disliked Herodion. Of all Minos' advisors, he was the only one who had not automatically discounted her intelligence simply because she was a 'mere woman'. Whilst Pasiphae was more than capable of manipulating most of those around her, she had never found it to be necessary with Herodion; they had come to an unspoken agreement very early on.

"The pleasure is as much mine as it is yours, my Lord Herodion," she answered. "I share the King's pleasure at seeing you and your family safe. I am only sorry that Ariadne is not here to greet you also. I know she would have wished to be. Unfortunately, she had obligations at the temple here; her presence was desired by Melas, Poseidon's High Priest. She had already left to attend to her duties when word came that you had arrived."

"A pity," Herodion replied. "I am very much looking forwards to seeing her again. Princess Ariadne was just a little girl the last time I saw her and I find that I am intrigued to see how she has grown."

"She is a young woman now," Minos said proudly, "and as kind as she is beautiful. She is everything I could hope she would be and more. She will be a superb Queen for Atlantis one day when I am no longer here."

Pasiphae resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Minos' effusive assessment of his daughter. She had come to tolerate Ariadne over the last few months but still could not say she truly liked the girl; there was too much history between them for that.

"I am sure that she is indeed a credit to you, My Lord," Herodion murmured. "Although I am equally sure that we would all hope that Ariadne's time for assuming the throne will be many years away yet." He paused. "I would assume that, since you speak of the Princess taking the throne in the future, she is not yet married?"

"No," Minos answered. "Although she is newly betrothed."

Out of the corner of her eye, Pasiphae saw Jason visibly flinch. Whilst she had discovered over the past few weeks that the boy was far better at hiding his feelings than she would have thought possible, it was clear that there were times when his emotions still got the better of him. It was something that he would have to be trained out of. A member of the royal family had to remain aloof and untouchable at all times; a life spent in the public eye meant that almost everyone else (especially members of the court or foreign royals) had to be viewed as a threat, ready to strike at the first hint of weakness, so your guard had to remain up at all times and any emotions hidden. This was something that she would have to teach her son quickly.

She flicked her eyes towards him more fully. As she did, she saw Jason glance towards her, the corners of his mouth quirking into a barely perceptible smile and his head tilting towards her in a faint nod of acknowledgement. His movements were so slight that it was unlikely anyone else would even notice them, Pasiphae noted approvingly; and if they did, they were unlikely to realise that he was doing anything more significant than fidgeting slightly.

He still looked cold and wet though – the whole group did – although Minos seemed to be in no hurry to bring this audience to a close; was clearly too caught up in the pleasure of seeing an old friend again to realise that the little boy clutching Herodion's son's hand was actually shivering where he stood and that the rest of the party didn't look a lot better.

Pasiphae's eyes narrowed, although she maintained her usual impassive expression.

"My Lord," she said. "Much as I am sure we are all pleased to reacquaint ourselves with old friends, perhaps it would be better to continue this conversation over the supper table later – once our guests have had the opportunity to rest and refresh themselves?"

As she spoke, she spotted Alexarchos hovering nearby and moved to speak with the servant in a hushed voice. Although her words did not carry beyond the ears of the overseer, the note of command in her voice did.

"The Queen is right, of course," Minos stated. "You shall be made comfortable and we will speak properly over supper… and afterwards I would appreciate your opinion on several matters, Herodion. A private audience I think, in my personal council chamber."

"As you wish, My Lord," Herodion murmured.

"If you would follow Alexarchos, he will show you to the chambers where you can refresh yourselves," Pasiphae said briskly, re-joining the group. "I regret that they are not of the best order but as you will only be using them for a few hours that hardly matters. I have instructed Alexarchos to have hot baths drawn up and the servants will be bringing light refreshments shortly – it is, after all, still several hours until supper and you are undoubtedly all hungry from your journey." She turned towards Ianthe. "Lady Ianthe, a local dressmaker has been engaged and will be visiting the Princess Ariadne and I shortly. No doubt you will wish to make use of her services for your family while she is here. I will send her to you once I have finished with her."

"Thank you, My Lady," Ianthe murmured, slightly cowed by the formidable Queen.

Pasiphae allowed herself a cool smile.

"Then we will not detain you any longer," she said. "I will look forwards to your presence at supper."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Herodion replied, looking from the King to the Queen and then back again.

"Please, come this way My Lord," Alexarchos said ingratiatingly. "I have taken the liberty of having your bags brought inside."

He led the family off down a side corridor clearly pointing things out as he went and answering Lord Herodion's questions.

Now that they were gone, Pasiphae finally – _finally_ – faced her son fully – and yet, even now she could not let her guard down and greet Jason in the way she would like; there were still too many outside eyes watching – Minos, Hercules, Pythagoras and any servants who happened to be in the vicinity.

"I am pleased to see you all returned safely," Minos was saying to the three men. "I will expect a full account of your journey later. For now, you should follow Lord Herodion's example and rest and refresh yourselves. No doubt the journey has been arduous." He raised an eyebrow as he took in the travel-stained appearance of the men's clothing and the general air of weariness that seemed to pervade them.

"It has been a little tiring, Your Majesty," Pythagoras murmured.

"Then, please, go and make yourselves comfortable," Minos replied, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. There would be time enough to speak with his stepson later once the boy had had time to recover from his trip a little; plenty of time to greet Jason properly.

As the three men turned to go, however, Pasiphae caught hold of Jason's arm with an iron-hard grip.

"I require a word with you, Jason. Once you have bathed and changed, you will inform a servant and I will come to your chambers," she instructed.

Jason looked down at the hand firmly gripping his arm mildly and then back up at his mother with slightly raised eyebrows.

Pasiphae relaxed her grip a little, realising that it was perhaps a little harder than she had intended, but did not take her hand away from his arm, almost as though she was afraid he would disappear if she did – which was ridiculous, she told herself firmly; she had known all along that Jason intended to return to Pagenia… and yet somehow she had feared he would not.

She was startled to feel herself caught up in a gentle embrace; Jason's arms sneaking around her waist to squeeze her lightly, mindful of his damp clothing. Almost automatically, she brought her own arms around her son's back to return the hug.

"I'm happy to see you too," he breathed into her ear, tone laced with good humour.

Pasiphae found herself smiling warmly.

"Do not be cheeky," she said, extracting herself from his embrace and swatting him lightly on the arm. "You are right though," she relented, catching hold of his hand, "I am pleased to see you. I have missed you."

"I'm not planning on going anywhere again anytime soon," Jason promised. "You'll probably be sick of me before too long."

Pasiphae chuckled lightly.

"Perhaps," she said, "but I do not think that that will happen just yet."

She looked at her son.

"Now go and do as I said," she instructed. "You need to go and get out of those wet clothes. We will talk properly once you are a little more comfortable."

She turned her son around by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shove in the middle of his back to get him moving in the right direction, ignoring the amused look that her husband was giving her.

As Jason jogged down the corridor to re-join his friends, she felt Minos slip an arm around her waist.

"You see, my love," the King said gently. "It is as I said it would be. Jason is returned to us safely and without harm. All is well, thank the Gods."

"Indeed," Pasiphae murmured, half to herself. "We have much to be grateful for it seems."

She watched her son retreating down the corridor until he got to the turn into the family wing. Then she shook herself from her reverie and pulled away from her husband, turning towards him as she did.

"The dressmaker will be here shortly and I have additional duties to attend to now that we have guests for supper. If you will excuse me, My Lord, I will attend to them now."

She turned on her heel and walked briskly away, her mind already fixed on the next task.

* * *

Jason waited for the servants to fill the bath in the screened off area of his room with barely concealed impatience. Ordinarily, he would have gone to the main house baths (would never usually have dreamed of asking the servants to fill the tub in his room; still felt decidedly uncomfortable at the idea of anyone serving _him_ ) but just after he had got back to his room a young serving girl had arrived, tapping nervously on the door, and had informed him that Master Alexarchos had instructed her to prepare a bath for him at the Queen's behest. Jason wasn't going to put this girl (or any of the other servants who had followed her carrying steaming jugs and buckets) in an impossible position by suggesting that they should disobey an order from his mother, and to be honest he was simply too tired to argue anyway.

He had already stripped off his wet cloak (which had been whisked away instantly by one of the servants), his breastplate, sandals, wrist braces and belt, keen to soak in the hot water as soon as he could. With nothing else to do until the bath was full (and the servants gone because there was no way in hell he was stripping completely naked in front of them), Jason grabbed a fresh set of clothing from a box that had been left at the end of the bed, putting the lid back down quietly and laying out the clothes on a chair, and sat down to wait. He rolled his head and stretched, hearing the cracks and pops that came from his neck and shoulders.

Finally the last servant left the room. Jason padded across the chamber, stripping off his remaining clothes as he went and absently kicking them out of the way, before sinking gratefully into the steaming bath. The hot water eased tension and aches that he hadn't really known were there and the steam soothed away any tightness in his chest (the last remnants of the cough he had had for the last few weeks that was still stubbornly clinging on), as he fully relaxed for the first time since he and his friends had set out to fetch Lord Herodion and his family.

He let his head drop back against the side of the bath, closed his eyes and let his mind drift. It would be so easy to drift off to sleep here. He sighed contentedly as the gentle heat lapped at him and chased away the cold that seemed to have seeped into his bones.

How much time passed before Jason finally roused himself, he couldn't say. Eventually the rapidly cooling water alerted him to the fact that it was probably time to get out. Having quickly washed both his body and hair, he stepped out of the bath and grabbed the towel that one of the servants had carefully placed on a nearby stool, drying himself off rapidly and winding the towel around his waist, before hurrying back around the screen to the blazing fire – not wanting to get cold again.

As Jason pulled on his clothes, his eyes drifted longingly towards the bed. He was feeling a damned site more human after that bath but he was still tired and the bed looked terribly inviting. He shook himself. No. He couldn't let himself sink into the mattress and sleep – not when Pasiphae had said she wanted to see him as soon as he was dressed.

He ambled over to the door and stuck his head out. In the corridor outside the room, a young serving girl was hurrying past with her arms full. Jason was pretty sure it was the same girl who had come to prepare the bath in the first place.

"Hi," he called gently. "Could you help me please?"

The girl turned, startled, nearly dropping her load as she did.

"Of course, My Lord," she replied anxiously. "What is it that you require?"

Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes. He still wasn't entirely used to people calling him 'my lord' and didn't like it very much, but had learned that it wasn't worth trying to get the servants to use his given name; it would only lead to them being punished by the King or Queen if they did and that wasn't something he was willing to see happen.

"The Queen told me to send someone to fetch her as soon as I was ready," he said. "Could you do that please?"

"At once, My Lord," the girl stated, turning and scurrying off as quickly as she could.

Jason shook his head ruefully as he went back inside his room. He didn't think he would ever get used to that sort of reaction; to the nervousness with which most of the servants regarded people they thought of as members of the nobility.

Knowing he would probably have a few minutes to wait before his mother arrived, he moved back across the room and grabbed his comb from the side before using in an attempt to neaten his slightly damp dark curls – he knew that Pasiphae frowned upon any untidiness after all, and he didn't want to have an argument so soon after arriving.

On a whim, Jason grabbed a scroll that Pythagoras had given him just before they had left for Athanos that he hadn't had the chance to read and headed back over to a chair by the fire. About halfway across the room he stopped, frowning, as he noticed something. The clothes he had dropped on the floor earlier were gone and a plate of what appeared to be cakes and pastries had been put on a low table near the fire – which meant that one of the servants had been in the room while Jason had been bathing behind the screen and he hadn't even noticed them. He scowled to himself. It wasn't the fact that they'd been in that he minded so much – although he _had_ been naked and he really wasn't sure that he liked the thought that they could have seen him if they'd just looked around the screen – it was more that he was worried that he hadn't even heard them in there. Just how inattentive had he been?

Still, there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it now. He made the mental note to talk to someone (possibly Alexarchos or his mother – although he wasn't sure whether either one of them would understand why it was a problem for him) to ask that in future no-one should be allowed in if he was bathing.

He settled down in the chair he had been aiming for and unwrapped the scroll, trying to make use of his time until his mother arrived with a little light reading. After a few moments though, he gave up and threw the parchment on the side. His eyes felt dry and sore and the words had seemed to jump about on the page, evidence (if evidence were needed) of how tired he was. He rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, trying to stave off the slight headache he felt lurking.

A light fragrance wafted across the room from the doorway and Jason smiled; he hadn't realised until then that he would recognise Pasiphae's favourite scent so easily. It was more than that though. He could feel her presence without looking – it was something he had noticed a couple of weeks ago; something that seemed to have been growing over time. He wondered if it was something else for him to be worried about but put it out of his mind for now.

"Hi," he said, standing up and turning towards his mother.

"Hello Jason," Pasiphae's tone was far warmer than it had been in the hallway. "I am glad to see you safe and well."

She crossed the room to her son's side and lightly embraced him, still subconsciously worried that he would pull away if she pushed him too far too soon – despite their ever deepening relationship.

As it was, Jason stiffened slightly before forcing himself to relax and slipping his arms around his mother to return her hug.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Automatic reaction. It always tends to startle me when people touch me unexpectedly."

He sounded almost embarrassed and gave a short almost shy laugh, ducking his head as he did.

"I understand," Pasiphae replied, although she didn't quite manage to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

She had hoped that they were past the awkward stage in their relationship by now and couldn't help feeling the sting of rejection at Jason's subconscious action.

"No, I don't think you do," Jason answered. He swallowed hard. "It's just that… being hugged… it's not something I've ever been used to. It was months before I was completely comfortable with either Pythagoras or Hercules hugging me… and they're both really demonstrative… but just because I'm not completely comfortable with physical contact, it doesn't mean I don't care. I'm fine if I'm the one that initiates contact – that starts the hug or whatever – but I suppose it's just that I don't expect to be touched and when I am it makes me feel awkward." He sighed softly. "I will get used to it… I did with the guys… but if I tense up like that it's not because I don't want… It's just… shadows of my past, you know?"

Pasiphae tried to smile and went to pull away from him only to find that Jason tightened his embrace slightly, squeezing her lightly before letting her go with a rueful smile.

"You wanted to speak to me," he said.

"I did," Pasiphae replied, sitting herself down gracefully in one of the chairs near the fire.

Jason took that as his cue to sit too, taking the chair opposite her.

"I wanted to welcome you home," Pasiphae said softly, "and I did not want prying eyes to be watching… Also, I wanted to return this." She held out Jason's necklace, the light from the fire making it glint as is swung from her hand, the leather cord draped across her knuckles.

Jason took it with a smile of thanks and slipped it back over his head. He had to admit that he hadn't felt right without it.

"I told you that I would come back for it if I could," he said.

"You did," Pasiphae responded. "Although I would hope that it was not simply the thought of reclaiming your necklace that made you return."

"It wasn't," Jason replied. "I missed you – all of you… It surprised me just how much I did."

"Dare I hope that this means you have decided to stay with us once we have returned to Atlantis?" Pasiphae asked, her voice even but her eyes intent.

Jason hesitated.

"I don't know," he answered slowly. "I still don't think that I know enough – to have been part of your world for long enough – to commit to anything permanent… and when I think of home it's still my home in the city that comes to mind and not the Palace… I don't what to lose _this_ though. I don't want to lose my mother… and I'm not sure I'll be able to go back to the way things were before anyway. I don't think I'm quite ready to make any permanent decisions about my future but I'm not going to run off as soon as we get back to Atlantis either. I think I'd like to stay for a while if that's alright? Learn a bit more about what your world and your life is like if I can?"

"You should not even need to ask," Pasiphae replied. "You are always welcome in our home. It is your home too, if you wish it to be. I do not deny the fact that I would wish to see you remain with us permanently – to see you take your rightful place in our family in front of the world – but I will content myself with the knowledge that you wish to remain with us for now… it is, after all, more than you have been willing to commit to before now."

"Thank you," Jason said simply. "I wasn't sure you would understand."

"I could compel you to remain at the Palace with us," Pasiphae admitted frankly. "I could force the issue… threaten those who you hold dear… but I could see no good coming of it. You would, at best, resent me… and possibly even come to hate me. I find that I very much want to avoid that. I do not think that I could bear to see you turn against me. I do not wish to lose you again, Jason." She looked away into the heart of the fire.

"You're not going to lose me," Jason replied gently.

"I am very glad to hear it," Pasiphae responded. "Now tell me, your journey – it was not too taxing?"

"I am tired," Jason admitted. "Very tired. The journey was harder than I had hoped it would be. Thank you for sorting out the bath by the way… I'd have probably ended up using one of the water jugs if you hadn't… I'm a bit too tired to have wanted to go to the main house baths."

"You all looked cold and tired," Pasiphae said. "It is one of the duties of a good hostess to see to the comfort of her husband's guests… and one of the duties of any wife and mother to see to the comfort of her family. It was simply a matter of instructing the servants to bring water. It cost me no effort at all."

"It was still thoughtful," Jason answered, "and I'm grateful."

"You must be hungry." Pasiphae gestured towards the plate of cakes and pastries on the low table. "It is still some hours until supper. Please… eat."

Jason smiled and reached for a cake. It was still warm. He smiled.

"Will you join me?" he asked. "Unless you need to be somewhere else that is."

"There is nothing that requires my attention at this precise moment," Pasiphae confirmed. "I have already dealt with the dressmaker. She is with Ariadne now and will then visit Lady Ianthe, so I am currently free to spend my time as I wish… for now at least."

She took her own pastry from the plate.

"So Ariadne is betrothed then," Jason said softly.

"Yes," Pasiphae confirmed. "You knew that it was to happen though."

"Yeah. Yeah, I did," her son replied with a soft sigh. "It's just that I suppose I had hoped it wouldn't be quite so quick."

"There was no reason to delay once Prince Chalcon had arrived," Pasiphae retorted. "King Agrias was pushing for it to happen as soon as possible and Minos had no option but to comply."

Jason snorted.

"I'm surprised he didn't insist on them being married as soon as the engagement was announced," he stated with a faint hint of bitterness in his tone.

"He was indeed keen for the marriage to take place without delay, but alas it was not to be," Pasiphae replied coolly.

Jason couldn't help but notice the way her lips twitched slightly though – a sure sign that the Queen was amused by something – or the smugness that she seemed to radiate.

"What did you do?" he demanded.

"I?" Pasiphae asked. "I did nothing… and I would thank you not to suggest outside this room that I did. Our position is a precarious one and we cannot afford to be seen to be doing anything dishonourable after all."

"Of course," Jason replied, although his eyes had started to dance with faint amusement. "Forgive me for even _thinking_ anything else."

Pasiphae's lips twitched again.

"No, it was the Oracle who determined that the marriage could not take place at this time," she said. "She consulted with the Gods. It seems that they were concerned that their authority might be usurped and demanded that their blessing be sought – and this can only happen at the sacred grove at Dodona. The Oracle called the various kings who are in Pagenia to her and informed them of this. She also informed them that Poseidon, the Earth shaker, would be angered if his servant was not married before the great bull statue in the Temple of Atlantis and that he would punish us; that he would lay waste to all that those who defy him hold dear. King Agrias readily agreed to postpone the wedding until we are back in Atlantis when it was pointed out to him that Poseidon's wrath would fall on Tanagra most of all if his will was defied."

"And of course you had nothing to do with that," Jason murmured.

"I cannot influence the Gods," Pasiphae answered smoothly, "and it can hardly be said that the Oracle is a close friend of mine. There are few who would believe that I can influence _her_."

"What's he like?" Jason asked.

"Who?"

"The Prince that Ariadne is betrothed to."

It was like picking at a wound, Jason decided morbidly; you knew you would make it bleed and yet, at the same time, you couldn't help yourself.

Pasiphae gave him a shrewd and knowing look.

"He is… not what I expected," she answered. "He seems to be nothing like his father – thank the Gods. He appears to be less than pleased to be pushed into a betrothal with a woman he does not know… although he also seems determined to make the best of the situation. I believe that he would like to find a way to make Ariadne happy."

"You like him then," Jason murmured, heart plummeting.

"Oh I would not go that far," Pasiphae replied sharply. "I think that he may be more of an ally that I had anticipated – certainly more so than his father is… but you shall judge for yourself soon enough. Prince Chalcon, for obvious reasons, has been a frequent visitor here in the past few days… and will attend the meetings the King is holding to discuss strategy with his father if nothing else."

"I see," Jason responded.

He looked away into the fire, swallowing hard.

"There is something else troubling you, is there not," Pasiphae remarked.

"I'm just tired." Jason answered a little too quickly.

Then he swallowed hard again and looked at his mother.

"No," he went on. "That's not it. He said I should trust you. That I should tell you…" he broke off suddenly.

"Who advised you to trust me?"

"Hercules," Jason replied. "He said that I should talk to you."

"And what is it that you need to talk to me about?" Pasiphae asked gently.

She had barely managed to keep the surprise from registering on her face that it had been her son's older friend who had suggested that Jason should trust her – she was hardly friendly with the man after all.

Jason licked his lips, drawing his lower lip between his teeth and then releasing it at his mother's pointed look.

"I've been having these dreams," he said in a rush.

"Go on," Pasiphae said encouragingly.

She felt a surge of relief at fact that Jason seemed to be finally about to open up to her – now she could help him if he would let her.

"Sometimes when I dream it comes true later," Jason muttered. "Like I've dreamt the future or something. Sometimes it's only flashes – images – but sometimes it's like I've seen what's going to happen in full. It happened the night before we rescued the girls from the slavers and it happened again the first night I came and had supper at the table with everyone." He swallowed hard before going on. "That night I dreamt about the battle in the streets and about the Temple falling to the Amphigeneians… and when it actually happened, I swear it was exactly like I dreamt it – even down to what people were saying – apart from in my dream the Oracle was killed when Anaxandros went to cut out her heart over the altar and in reality she wasn't."

"Because you threw a knife and saved her," Pasiphae pointed out. "This dream gave you the foreknowledge to allow you to act and change the outcome. That is something we should all be grateful for." She hesitated. "This does not just happen when you sleep and dream though, does it?"

Jason looked at her in surprise; his eyes huge and startled.

"What do you mean?" he asked guardedly.

Pasiphae sighed softly.

"I have noticed that there are times when you seem absent even though you are physically present," she said carefully. "Times when you seem to have _lapses_ , for want of a better word."

Jason looked down at the floor and nodded awkwardly, unable to keep himself from biting his lip this time. For once, Pasiphae let the action go, realising that having this conversation was far more important than correcting any of the bad habits she felt her son had.

"Yes," he admitted. "You're right. There are times when it's like the world around me fades away and I see things that aren't there… and they don't always make sense. I mean, some of them might be things in the future but some of them seem to be in the past… things that happened years ago but that I wasn't part of or there for or whatever. Only, that can't be right… Listen, I'm talking nonsense. It's probably just my imagination running riot again. Dad always said I had an overactive imagination."

Something in his tone immediately put Pasiphae on alert. Why had Aeson said that? What had he known about their son that Jason himself clearly didn't know?

"I was led to believe that you were very young when your father disappeared," she said lightly.

Jason shrugged, once again forgetting that his mother disliked the gesture intensely.

"I was five," he said. "I suppose at that age all children have pretty vivid imaginations. It's not that important now anyway." He paused. "At first I tried to convince myself that it was all coincidence but it's all a bit too precise… things were happening _exactly_ the way I was seeing them… or imagining them… or whatever the hell it is." He paused again for a moment. "When we were on our way to Athanos, there was a moment when I _saw_ the town fall – when I knew what was going to happen before it did and when it was going to happen. I mean… it was useful at the time… but I just want it to stop."

"I do not believe it can be stopped," Pasiphae answered gently, reaching out and taking her son's hand in both of hers. "I suspect that this is as much a part of you as having dark curls or being agile or able to run fast."

"Because I am touched by the Gods?" Jason asked.

"Possibly," Pasiphae replied, "and possibly not. It may well be that this is different… that it is something that would always have been a part of you whether you were touched by the Gods or not. That is something that we may find out with time. I suspect, though, that you will not be able to rid yourself of this _gift_ … but that it is something that you can learn to control so that is does not affect your every waking moment and does not disturb your sleep constantly. The first thing will be to speak with the Oracle… after all, she will have more experience with this type of problem than any one of us."

Jason looked at her with wide eyes. Pasiphae was once again struck by just how young and innocent he looked.

"You believe me?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course I believe you, silly boy," Pasiphae replied.

She looked at him again, seeing both the surprise and naked hope in his eyes. It made her pause.

"You actually thought I would _not_ believe you," she continued slowly. "That is why you did not speak to me any sooner."

Jason looked at the floor again and nodded. Pasiphae let go of his hand and stood. She drew the chair she was sitting in around until it was next to her son. Sitting back down, she reached out and turned his face towards her.

"You should have come to me sooner and I could have allayed these fears," she remarked gently. "You must remember that in my family it is not so unusual to have powers beyond the understanding of ordinary men. You are a child of Colchis as much as you are a child of Atlantis."

"Erm… I'm not actually a child," Jason pointed out.

"It is simply a turn of phrase, as I believe you are well aware," Pasiphae said. "You have as much Colchian blood as you do Atlantian." She paused. "I had – _have_ – a sister who is a seer… as I believe I told you once before," she went on. "We are not close… We have not been close for many years now… but as a child I bore witness to her visions on more than one occasion… So to know you have inherited this ability comes as less of a surprise than you might have believed."

"I thought you'd think I was going mad," Jason admitted. " _I_ thought I was going mad… and you have so many other things to deal with at the moment. I didn't want to add to that."

"Oh you silly, silly boy," Pasiphae chided gently. "You are my son and your wellbeing is important to me. I will never be so busy that you cannot speak to me about matters that concern you so deeply." She slipped her hand round to the back of his neck and gently rubbed in the comforting manner she had seen his friend Hercules doing on several occasions. "In this matter I only wish to help you, my love."

"So you think I should speak with the Oracle then?"

"I do," Pasiphae confirmed. "I am right, am I not, that you have not been sleeping well because of this?"

Jason attempted a smile.

"No," he agreed. "I don't think I've had a full night's sleep in weeks."

"Then it is imperative that you speak with the Oracle soon," his mother declared. "You cannot go on like this. It is not good for you. For now, though, I believe that you should rest from your journey. Tonight we will have supper with Lord Herodion and his family… and tomorrow you shall speak with the Oracle."

Jason huffed a soft laugh.

"I am very tired," he admitted.

"Then I shall leave you for now," Pasiphae replied. "I believe that Minos wished to take a turn in the gardens if it has stopped raining and I must ensure that Alexarchos has instructed the kitchen staff properly on what to prepare for supper."

"And I would hate to think that they were not completely terrorised into submission," Jason responded, his bright grin and dancing eyes informing his mother that he was only teasing.

"You are too impudent by half," Pasiphae retorted, although it was clear from her slight smile that she was amused. "Rest well now and I shall see you in time for supper."

"Until later then," Jason answered.

The Queen stood and glided gracefully out of the room, pulling the door softly closed behind her. Jason watched her leave. Then his eyes were drawn once more to the bed. It was amazing how much lighter he felt for having opened up to his mother, he decided as he ambled across the room and sat down on the edge of the mattress.

He yawned and swung himself up onto the bed, wriggling down into a comfortable position as he relaxed fully for the first time since leaving to go to Athanos.

Pasiphae had been far more understanding than he had been expecting; had managed to allay his fears pretty well. Jason half smiled sleepily to himself. Hercules had been right: talking to his mother had definitely been the right thing to do.

Jason yawned again and let his eyes slip closed, finally drifting away into a well-earned nap.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N I'm sorry it's been longer than ever between updates this time. Real life has not been behaving itself for the past couple of months and my writing time has been severely curtailed. I will admit that I've been struggling with writer's block too (once again due to the aforesaid real life issues making it hard for me to concentrate).

Still, the chapter is here now. Please let me know if you enjoy it :-)

* * *

The shadows of evening had spread rapidly, the lamps and candles had been lit and supper was almost ready to be served. Minos paced the small atrium adjoining the dining room impatiently; he was hungry and keen to sit down at the table. The door behind him opened and he turned to greet the newcomer.

"Father." Ariadne's voice was warm and vibrant; tinged with love.

"Ariadne," Minos greeted his daughter.

"Pasiphae informed me that Lord Herodion and his family have arrived safely."

"They have indeed… as you shall see for yourself at supper shortly." Minos schooled his face to avoid smiling, knowing what the question his daughter really wanted to ask was. "Jason and his friends have also returned safe and well," he added.

He fought the smile even harder at Ariadne's faint sigh of relief, his lips twitching. Then his eyes narrowed slightly. Ariadne's hair was caught back from her face to flow down her back in heavy, deliberately curled tresses. This was the way she normally wore it. What caught her father's attention, though, was the fact that instead of wearing a diadem (as she usually did), nestled in Ariadne's dark hair were a pair of golden combs, inlaid with emeralds, garnets and brightly coloured enamel, holding the weight of her hair back from her face. Minos knew these combs well; had had them made for Pasiphae many years ago and knew they were one of his wife's favourite pieces of jewellery – she had been wearing them the night that Atlantis had fallen and carried them to Pagenia with her. He also knew that, given the somewhat strained relationship between his daughter and her stepmother, Pasiphae was not given to lending Ariadne pieces of jewellery – especially not two of her favourite pieces. He wondered briefly what his wife was up to now.

"Your Majesty."

Minos smiled at his stepson's respectful tone of voice, even as he wondered how the young man had managed to enter the room so silently that neither he nor Ariadne (from the start of surprise she gave) had even heard him arrive.

"I'm not late, am I?" Jason added softly.

"No," Minos confirmed, turning. "Supper has not yet been served and as you can see we have not yet sat at table. You are early enough. Only we three have arrived at present."

He shot a scrutinising look at his stepson, noting approvingly that Jason looked far less tired than he had when he had arrived earlier.

"You are well rested now?" he added.

"Yes My Lord," Jason replied, nodding.

"Good," Minos said firmly.

His eyes narrowed once more as he took in the young man's appearance fully. Jason was more formally attired than usual; the silver trimmed blue tunic he was wearing bearing a resemblance to the one he had worn when he had gone with Minos to meet King Anaxandros in the days before Atlantis had fallen to the Amphigeneians. The colour and quality of the fabric plainly marked him out as a member of the royal family – something that Jason had so far avoided doing out of choice.

Minos raised a curious eyebrow. Perhaps Pasiphae had instructed Jason to wear these clothes tonight but for the life of him Minos couldn't see why when it was just a simple supper among old friends. He wondered anew what his wife was up to now.

As if he had summoned her, Pasiphae swept into the atrium regally, taking in the occupants of the room in a single glance. Her eyes lingered for a moment on her son and her expression became faintly quizzical, although it was soon masked by her usual inscrutable look. She turned to her husband with a slight smile.

"My Lord," she greeted Minos. "I trust that the arrangements for this evening are to your satisfaction. I believe Alexarchos informed you of my decisions over the menu."

"Pasiphae," Minos acknowledged her, taking her hands in his briefly. "I am more than satisfied. As I recall, several of the dishes are among Lord Herodion's favourites. I am pleased that you took the trouble to discover that. We will go in as soon as supper is called. No doubt our guests and Jason's friends will join us shortly."

"I am glad that you are pleased," Pasiphae replied. She looked around at Ariadne and Jason. "My but we do have beautiful children," she remarked, pleasure colouring her tone.

"We are indeed fortunate in this," Minos asserted.

The Queen inclined her head in agreement and turned towards her son, embracing Jason lightly.

"You look very nice," she complimented.

Jason fought not to duck his head awkwardly.

"I just thought that with what we were talking about earlier and … well… if I'm going to stay for a while… I said I wanted to learn what your life was like normally and I do. I want to know what it's like to be part of your family… but I don't think I can do that if I don't let myself _be_ part of your family – part of _my_ family. I'm not talking about telling the rest of the world who I am yet… but I do think I need to try to fit in a bit more," he said.

Pasiphae's eyes softened.

"You will not regret this," she replied gently.

"I hope so," Jason answered candidly. "I've never really stayed in one place for any length of time before… not since I was a child at least. Living with Pythagoras and Hercules… it's the longest I've stayed anywhere in years."

"May I ask why?" Pasiphae enquired curiously.

"Never really found somewhere to call home I suppose," Jason answered. "I never really felt like I fitted in where I came from so I never settled down… That and work; the job that I chose – that I trained for – involved a lot of travelling. I spent a lot of time at sea because of it." He hesitated for a moment. "I've never been very good at putting down roots," he admitted.

"As I told you, I will not compel you to stay," Pasiphae responded. "Although I do desire it."

"Thank you," Jason replied.

A throat being pointedly cleared made them both turn. The King was watching them, one eyebrow raised.

"I seem to be missing something here," he said sternly.

"I have not had the opportunity to speak with you since our guests arrived," Pasiphae answered, moving towards her husband. "I spoke with Jason earlier and he informed me that he wishes to remain with us for a time once we have returned to Atlantis; that he would like to learn more about our family and what our lives entail."

Minos turned towards his stepson with a faintly surprised expression.

"And this is what you sincerely desire?" he asked gravely.

Jason straightened slightly – once again fighting the urge to duck his head awkwardly.

"It is," he confirmed. "You told me that only I could choose my own path in life but to do that I think I need to know a bit more about what I might be getting into."

"Caution is a good trait to foster," Minos said approvingly. "There is a time and a place for decisive action… but equally there will be times when it pays to be cautious and to gather all the information you can." He paused. "I have noted that your basic nature tends more towards impulsive action than circumspection. This is not always a bad thing yet I would see you temper it with reasoned thought as well."

"Yes, My Lord," Jason replied with a wry smile.

"You feel that I am trying to teach you something that you already know perhaps," the King said knowingly, hiding his amusement at his stepson's half-spluttered denial. "It is of no matter," he went on. "Know that I am not displeased at your decision. I had thought, before Anaxandros took Atlantis by treachery, to make an offer to you once the siege was resolved that would make the thought of remaining in the Palace for a time more palatable to you; that would allow you access both to your old life and to our home, at least for the immediate future. So I hope you will understand that I am more than happy that you have come to this decision of your own accord." He reached out a hand and placed it warmly on the young man's shoulder. "I am certain that your mother has already ensured that you know this, but I wish you to be clear on something… there is not a time when you are not welcome in our home – be it day or night you will be made welcome. I know that your mother is keen for you to see it as your home too."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Jason answered with a slightly shy smile, a little embarrassed at all the attention.

Minos' eyes softened with understanding and he patted the young man on the shoulder. Before he could say anything else, however, a gong sounded to inform the residents of the house who had not yet reached the dining room that food was about to be served and the ever deferential Alexarchos appeared in the doorway.

"Finally," Minos growled, with a hard look at the overseer. "I had begun to fear that we were going to have to find our own supper."

"Forgive me Your Majesty," Alexarchos murmured. "There was a minor problem in the kitchen but it has been rectified now. I can only apologise that your supper has been so inexcusably delayed."

"A problem?" Pasiphae's voice was sharp. "What problem?"

"It is of no concern, My Lady," Alexarchos replied. "A minor irritation which was quickly solved."

Minos nearly winced. He knew from long experience just what a bad idea it was to cross his wife or try to fob her off with platitudes – particularly when it came to the ordering of her household.

"I believed that I had made it sufficiently clear to you that I was to be consulted on all matters pertaining to this household," Pasiphae stated in a deadly quiet tone – so sharp that it could have cut glass. "Was I somehow unclear in my instructions?"

Alexarchos gulped.

"No, My Lady," he replied hastily. "I merely wished to save you any unnecessary concern about a matter that was easily dealt with."

His eyes darted nervously around the room as though he was looking for someone to help him out of the hole he was digging.

Pasiphae raised an imperious eyebrow.

"I see," she replied icily.

"Forgive me, My Lady. I meant no offence." The estate overseer was definitely sweating by this point. "It is simply a misunderstanding on my part."

Pasiphae hummed a humourless laugh as she stared hard at the man.

"A misunderstanding," she said. "I see. You will come to my chambers immediately following the midday meal tomorrow to receive my instruction so that we can ensure that we do not repeat this… _misunderstanding_."

Alexarchos gulped again.

"Of course, Your Majesty," he answered, thoroughly cowed.

"Now, you will answer my first question," Pasiphae continued. "What was this _problem_ that meant that supper is delayed?"

"One of the servants in the kitchen was taken ill suddenly, My Lady," Alexarchos replied. "It meant that the head cook was not able to produce supper in as timely a manner as usual."

Minos' eyes narrowed.

"This sudden illness… there was nothing suspicious about it?" he demanded. "And had this unwell servant handled any of our food?"

The uncomfortable thought that this might be an attempt to poison him lingered in his mind.

"No, Your Majesty," Alexarchos hurried to reassure him. "The supper had not yet begun to be prepared when the servant was taken ill. As to the illness… the girl fainted. It has happened before, some months ago now. There is no fever – she is simply uncommonly tired and weak. No doubt a few days rest will see her back in the kitchens. In the meantime I have engaged a temporary replacement to commence work tomorrow."

"Indeed," Pasiphae said, still looking hard at the man. "You will bring this… temporary replacement with you when you come to my chambers tomorrow. I wish to see for myself whether they are suitable."

"Of course, My Lady," Alexarchos assured her. "It will be as you say."

"Father, perhaps we should go through to the dining room now before the food spoils," Ariadne said softly. She turned to look at Alexarchos. "I hope the girl gets better soon," she added. "If there is anything I can do to help…"

"You are very kind Your Highness," Alexarchos murmured.

"Very well, let us go through," Minos said. He looked around with a deep frown, "but where are our guests? As I recall, in times gone by Lord Herodion was always exceptionally punctual and I would not have expected the years to have altered _that_ aspect of his character."

The estate overseer hesitated slightly, still feeling the Queen's sharp gaze boring into him.

"I believe that that may be my fault My Lord," he admitted. "When I discovered supper was to be delayed, I took the decision both to delay ringing the gong and sending someone to fetch your visitors. I thought that after such a long and arduous journey they would be more comfortable in the chambers set aside for them than sitting in the dining room. If I have taken too much upon myself I can only apologise."

"You have indeed taken a great deal upon yourself," snorted Pasiphae, sharply.

She caught the narrow-eyed glare that both her son and stepdaughter were giving her and relented slightly.

"I will accept that you acted with the best possible intentions, however," she relented, "and perhaps it is for the best," she added, looking at her husband. "We would not wish Lord Herodion or his family to be discomforted after all."

"No," Minos agreed. "We would not."

"I am of the opinion, however, that these are not decisions you should be taking," Pasiphae went on. "We will discuss your role here fully tomorrow. I will expect you to keep me fully informed of all goings on in this house in the future… as is my duty and my _right_."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Alexarchos said hastily. "I have sent a maid to fetch everyone else for supper," he added nervously. "They should join you shortly."

"Then let us go and be seated to await their arrival," Minos said firmly.

* * *

Supper had been a pleasant affair. Minos had spent time catching up with his old friend in the presence of his family. If there seemed to be a little awkwardness between his daughter and stepson then, sadly, he supposed it was only to be expected. The King was not blind and far from stupid and knew only too well how things stood between the two of them. He sighed softly to himself as he toyed with a cup of wine in his private council chamber, deep in thought. It was not a situation that was easy for anyone to deal with, least of all two young people barely at the start of their adult lives and caught up in their own emotions.

After supper, when everyone was relaxed and well fed, they had retired to one of the family rooms; a pleasant chamber for sitting in.

The two little foundlings that Herodion seemed intent on taking in had been left in the chambers where he and his family had rested earlier under the care of one of the female servants; they were just too young to be up this late at night. This had left Lady Ianthe free to enjoy the evening without worry. She had moved to the couches on one side of the sitting room after supper in the company of Ariadne, where they had been deep in conversation.

On the other side of the room, Jason had gone to join his two friends accompanied by young Iollas. One of the men had produced a Petteia board from somewhere (although where they had found it was a mystery) and they seemed to be engrossed in a game; Jason and Iollas teaming up against Pythagoras while Hercules looked on.

Overseeing everything, Pasiphae had moved between everyone with her usual poise and grace; ever the gracious hostess in social situations. Minos was only too aware of what an asset she was to him. Since everyone had seemed to be settled and comfortable, the King had felt no qualms in retreating to his personal council chambers with some good wine and his oldest friend, where he had preceded to explain to Herodion everything that had gone on in the past few weeks. He had somewhat skipped over Jason's identity, however, only telling Herodion that the young man was a relative by marriage; it wasn't that he was worried about his old friend's reaction, it was more that he felt the need to protect his stepson's privacy (although it was not something he would ever have imagined thinking about in times gone by).

Which of course brought him to where he was now, sitting at the table where he had taken to working, playing with his cup of wine, deep in thought and waiting for his old friend to respond.

Herodion, for his part, was standing in the window with his back to the King, looking out over Pagenia, bathed in moonlight and lit by the glow of torches and lamps on the street corners and in the windows of the houses.

"Well," he said finally, "that is quite a set of events."

"Indeed," Minos replied, draining his cup and slamming it sharply down on the table top. "And I would appreciate your wisdom and advice, old friend. I know what I must do. I know that Atlantis must be retaken… but how am I to do it? That is the question. The army we are gathering… the alliances we are making… it is good and will give us the men that we need… but to be sure of succeeding I believe we will require the element of surprise. We must strike before Anaxandros can prepare… and yet I cannot see how that can be achieved. Whichever direction we approach the city from he will surely have warning of our coming; after all, I had plenty of warning that the Amphigeneians were approaching and in the end the city must have fallen through treachery – I can see no other way that Anaxandros would have known of the way through the sewers… and since he does indeed know that route of entry, we cannot rely upon using it ourselves."

"No," Herodion answered, thoughtfully. "If there is any chance that Anaxandros of Amphigeneia might know the way through the sewers we cannot use them."

He turned away from the window and paced across the room, sitting down on the opposite side of the table to the King.

"You are correct, though," he added. "It would benefit us to have the element of surprise."

"Indeed," Minos retorted with a sigh. He paused for a moment. "There is another option for entering the city," he admitted, "but I do not know how feasible it will be."

"Go on."

"I told you that when we escaped from the Temple we were separated; that Jason and a young soldier got the Oracle and Ariadne out of the city and joined us later."

"Yes."

"I did not tell you _how_ they got out of the city, however."

Minos poured himself another cup of wine before continuing.

"It would appear that there is at least one smugglers tunnel beneath the city," he continued. "Ariadne was brought out of the city through it. I learned of its existence through overhearing a conversation between Jason and his two friends. I am unsure as to how much use this tunnel will be, however. I have spoken extensively with Jason on the subject and from his description the tunnel would be far too small to move any meaningful amount of men through."

He paused again and took a sip of his wine, gesturing for Herodion to help himself.

"So, we know of a tunnel beneath the city but its usefulness is negated by its size," Herodion murmured thoughtfully, reaching for the wine flagon and a second cup. He took a long sip and sighed contentedly. "This is an excellent wine," he complimented.

"Thank you," Minos answered. "It comes from this estate. That is indeed the sum of things," he added. "There are, however, apparently rumours within Atlantis about the existence of further smugglers tunnels leading out under the city walls. The man Hercules informed me that such rumours have existed since he was a child and that as a child he and his friends would attempt to find the entrances without success. He firmly believes that the tunnels exist but could not tell me where the entrances would be found – and, as he has never actually seen them, could tell me nothing of their size and condition… and even if we could find a tunnel that was large enough to smuggle troops into the city through, the problem remains that we cannot – as far as I can see – approach the city without being noticed."

"That is a problem that we must give plenty of thought to," Herodion replied. "But there are other problems on your mind, old friend – I do not have to be able to read your mind to see that."

Minos sighed.

"Yes," he said. "I have many cares on my mind at present and too many calls on my time."

"Then allow me to help ease your burdens a little, My Lord. What troubles you?"

"Ariadne," Minos answered shortly.

"Ah," Herodion murmured. "She has grown into a very beautiful young woman."

He looked shrewdly at Minos.

"You are concerned about her proposed marriage to the Tanagran prince," he stated. "You do not like him?"

"No," Minos replied. "Prince Chalcon is amiable enough and far more honourable than I would have had right to expect given who his father is… but marriage to him will mean that Atlantis will inevitably become a vassal state to Tanagra. I know that when I am gone, Chalcon and Ariadne would be King and Queen in name only. It would be Agrias that ruled in reality… and I do not trust him. Besides which… it may be a foolish thought, but I had hoped to see Ariadne happy – and I am not sure that she ever will be with the Tanagran boy."

"You believe that she dislikes him?" Herodion asked. "Or perhaps you fear that he will not treat her as well as you would wish?"

"Quite the contrary," Minos declared. "From what I have seen of Prince Chalcon he is a worthy young man who will go out of his way to make things as comfortable and pleasant as he can for Ariadne. He does not love her – how could he on so short an acquaintance? And I know that Ariadne has always expected to marry for duty and not love. She is as dutiful and pleasant towards Prince Chalcon as anyone could have hoped her to be." He paused and looked away for a moment, sighing deeply. "As King I know that the marriage of the heir to the throne must take place for the benefit of the state; that my daughter must make a marriage that is to Atlantis' best advantage. As a father I find that my daughter's happiness is of great importance to me. If there was a way that these two things could be reconciled then I would do it… but there is not. In order to guarantee the support of Agrias of Tanagra in our venture to retake Atlantis, I have had to sacrifice Ariadne's lasting happiness… and that sits uneasily in my mind. There was no other option. The engysis _had_ to be made…"

"Why are you so certain that Ariadne will not be happy in her marriage?"

"Because I have reason to believe that her heart is already fixed upon another," Minos answered softly, "and under other circumstances I might have been tempted to think about it."

"Better for the heir to the throne to be betrothed to a son of Atlantis," Herodion remarked shrewdly.

He chuckled at Minos' startled look.

"Come old friend," he said. "It is hardly a great stretch of the imagination for me to have understood the meaning behind your words. As heir to the throne, the Princess Ariadne can hardly have travelled far from Atlantis after all – so her opportunities for meeting anyone from beyond our borders must naturally be limited… and an alliance between the old royal family of Atlantis and your own would have healed the last of the divisions within the city; would have marked a final end to the civil war and put a stop to any lingering discontent at the outcome. The marriage between Ariadne and Pasiphae's son could have solved a great many things."

Minos' expression darkened.

"Who told you?" he demanded.

"No-one," Herodion answered. "I did not need to be told. The clues were there. Back in Athanos my wife made a remark that she could not believe you would have appointed a peasant as your champion – and she was right; I know you, My Lord… our customs dictate that Atlantis' champion should be drawn from the nobility and you are too much the politician to offend the court by deviating so far from what is expected."

"There has been precedent for a peasant champion," Minos objected. "As I recall it happened in the days of King Cleonymus."

"Five generations ago," Herodion pointed out dryly, "and never in a time of such turmoil. If the city was at peace it might have been accepted… but you know as well as I do that when there is strife what the people most crave is as much stability and normality as they can find – no matter how small that stability might be. No, My Lord, at such a time as this you would not have selected a peasant… and even if the people believed the boy to be a peasant now, you would have arranged for the misconception to be corrected – even if you concealed his true identity from them."

"Even so," Minos began.

"Besides," Herodion continued, "I was there when you took the throne. The boy was so young when he was presumed to have been killed that it is hard to see the baby that he was in the man he has become and yet there is something in his smile that remains. In the days that we travelled together, I had reason to observe Jason quite closely and there are remnants of his family in his looks and demeanour; once you realise who he is the hints are clear. Also, there was a moment where he became slightly cross – not truly angry but a little irritated – and in that moment it was plain that he was Pasiphae's son. I have, after all, had occasion to see the fires of anger burning in Her Majesty's eyes many times in years gone by. The same fire flashes in Jason's eyes; the same expression."

"He does have her eyes," Minos agreed.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

"Jason's identity is a secret known to few people," he went on, giving Herodion a hard look, "and for the moment that is how it must remain."

"You have my word on it," Herodion murmured.

"I will admit to you that the news of the boy's survival came as something of a shock. I was pleased for Pasiphae's sake – I know only too well how the loss of her son grieved her – and yet I could make no promises as to my intentions and actions towards him aside from promising Pasiphae that I would not harm the lad. After all, I had no way of knowing how the boy would behave; whether he would seek to challenge me. We did not even know the boy's identity at that stage – only that he _had_ survived. To have promised more would have seemed imprudent."

"But you do not believe that he will challenge you now?"

"Jason? No," Minos replied firmly. "I do not believe that Jason will ever seek that sort of power out of choice." He paused again to take another sip of wine. "He is not what I expected at all. It appears that the Gods have a sense of humour because our paths had crossed at several points in the past without any of us knowing his relationship to the Queen. Indeed he had saved Ariadne's life and had rid our city of the Minotaur. I initially believed him to be uncultured; that he did not have the first idea of proper etiquette or how to believe in polite society... It is true that Jason is largely unversed in our ways and culture and he _is_ outspoken at times – particularly if there is something that he feels strongly about – and yet I find that I grow increasingly fond of him. There is much in the boy to be applauded and fostered; many good qualities. I knew from our previous encounters that Jason was brave but he is also quick thinking and unswervingly loyal. His mother is currently taking steps to ascertain his level of education and rectify any deficiencies we find. To give Jason the polish that he requires – the grounding in our customs, laws and history – it will require a great deal of work… yet I begin to believe that the boy might be equal to the task – and the Gods know Pasiphae certainly is. Her deepest desire is that he should take his place within our family. She is determined that he should be accepted… and you know how… _forceful_ the Queen can be when she is determined."

"Indeed," Herodion murmured.

"I value her strength greatly; I always have. I have taken comfort in it over the years – used it to bolster my own strength."

"You cannot blame her wishing to have her son as part of her life after so many years of being denied the opportunity to be his mother."

"And I do not," Minos asserted. "I understand the joy that Pasiphae must undoubtedly feel. Jason has just this day indicated that he would wish to remain in our household for a time once we are returned to the Palace in Atlantis; that he wants to learn more about our family before he takes a final decision as to where his future lies… and I find myself hoping that his future lies with us – and not just for his mother's sake. That, however, is for the future… for now we must concern ourselves with the present."

"And yet thoughts of the future must shape our decisions in the present," his companion replied.

"Undoubtedly," Minos agreed, "but some things must naturally take precedence over others… and for now I must out of necessity think more of regaining my city than what might lie beyond." He sighed softly and took another drink. "I need your help, old friend," he admitted. "I need your advice like never before. If I am to navigate this mess, I fear I must make hard decisions that may upset those around me. I require a good advisor to stand at my side."

"And that is where I will be, My Lord," Herodion promised, reaching across the table to clasp his old friend's arm. "I am here to support and advise you in whatever way you deem necessary."

Minos smiled faintly.

"Very well," he said. "Then we will begin tomorrow. For now it is growing late and we should look to the comfort of your wife and the children. I will have Alexarchos take you to the quarters he has obtained for you in the town and will expect to see you after breakfast tomorrow. I have a strategy meeting with Mithridates and Attalos. Unfortunately Agrias will also be in attendance so your support and wisdom will be greatly appreciated."

"Will Prince Chalcon be there?"

"I do not think so. He has requested a private audience with Ariadne in the morning. This will not be a full meeting, however, so there is no requirement for him to be there and I suspect he feels that his time will be better spent trying to charm my daughter. Under other circumstances he might even have been right."

"But you do not feel that Princess Ariadne would welcome the attention?" Herodion asked softly.

"Oh I am certain she will do her duty and that she will be pleasant enough but I do not delude myself that this situation is anything that she desires."

"Because her affections are already fixed upon her stepbrother? Surely they cannot have known one another long enough for a deep attachment to have formed though?"

"I am not entirely certain as to how long they have known one another," Minos admitted grudgingly. "Nor how they met. A few months ago I was gravely unwell and believed to be on my deathbed. During that time there was a misunderstanding, instigated by my wife's treacherous nephew, that led to Ariadne being condemned to the brazen bull for treason. It was Jason and his friends who rescued her at that time, although I am aware that they had help from the captain of my guards, Ramos – who was killed in the process, unfortunately."

"A loss you must have felt most keenly," Herodion murmured.

"Indeed," Minos sighed. "Although Dion is a fine replacement. Fortunately I recovered enough to put matters to rights and return my daughter to her rightful place. It became obvious upon speaking with her that she knew the young man who had so gallantly rescued her and I suspect she had called upon him for assistance in the past from little things she has said – although I do not know what assistance she could have required. How they came to know one another in the first place I cannot imagine since Jason was apparently no more than a peasant and Ariadne a princess and goddess on Earth. I had her send for him to meet with her at the Temple so that I might offer him a reward – a reward, I might add, that he refused. During our conversation I became aware that he had feelings towards her – it was clear in his eyes – and I felt that I had sufficient cause to warn him off. I tried to be as pleasant about it as possible – it would have been unfair to do otherwise given that the boy had been instrumental in her liberation – but I ensured that he was left with no illusions on the matter; I made sure that he knew that nothing could ever happen between them. It did not occur to me at the time that Jason's feelings towards Ariadne might be reciprocated… perhaps I was naïve; certainly I had failed to take account of the fact that my daughter was no longer a little girl and had become a women at some point while I was not paying as much attention to her as I should. Once I realised… I was as gentle with Ariadne as I could be, but in her heart she had to know that it would never be a suitable match – or so I believed. I informed her that she could never see the boy again." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Once I learned that Pasiphae's son lived – and once we discovered the lad's identity – it seemed serendipitous. I had begun to feel that if Jason could be trained in proper behaviour, it would be an ideal solution to the problem of Ariadne's future marriage. As you said, it would have been far better for her to have been betrothed to a son of Atlantis than that of a foreign state – no matter how close an ally that state might be. I had decided to see how well the boy would adapt before I made the decision. There is much for him to learn before he would have truly been worthy of my daughter's hand… and he would have needed to accept and acknowledge his place in the world – something that I believe he is moving towards but is not ready for as yet. As such I had informed Ariadne that I had not given Jason permission to court her and that they must remain as siblings for the time being… and it seems that now they must forever remain as brother and sister for the decision has been taken from my hands. The engysis has been made with Prince Chalcon and cannot now be broken. Were I to break it, I would bring dishonour on my house and that I will not do."

"It is a pretty puzzle."

"And not one which I know the answer to," Minos answered morosely. "There are too many things outside my control at present; too many problems weighing on my mind. I cannot clearly see the answer to any of them because they are so tangled and intertwined… and because there seem to be so many."

"Then allow me to alleviate some of your burden, My Lord," Herodion murmured earnestly. "What does the Queen think?" he added, knowing that Pasiphae's opinions were not to be discounted, knowing that she possessed a sharp political mind.

"I do not know," Minos admitted. "When Agrias first approached me with his outrageous demand for Ariadne's hand, Pasiphae counselled me to make the engysis… but since then I have not discussed matters with her. I suspect that she is seeking a way out of the marriage but she has not chosen to tell me of it. It is an astute political move – if something goes wrong in her manoeuvring, I can truthfully state that I knew nothing of it – even to the point of swearing an oath on the bronze bull. As such no dishonour can fall on me."

"And have you discussed retaking Atlantis with her?"

"Not yet," the King replied.

He sighed.

"Pasiphae is a remarkable woman, but she is only a woman and subject to the frailties of her sex… and she was so severely wounded in the escape from the city. I have not wished to burden her at a time when she is so recently recovered – is still regaining her strength really… and with Jason gone from Pagenia to escort your family back here, I believed that she had enough concerns of her own."

"That was a mistake, My Lord," Herodion stated firmly. "As a warrior, you do not keep a weapon and then refuse to use it. Her Majesty is, as you say, a remarkable woman who is likely to have a perspective that you may not have considered. As your advisor, I would recommend sharing your burdens with her – she may see a solution that you have not considered." He hesitated for a moment. "As to the problem of the Princess' marriage… with your permission I will consult with the Queen. It may be that I can be of some small service to her in her endeavours without embarrassing you. Indeed I will ensure that you know nothing of what I am doing so that you may not be compromised in your dealings with Agrias and the other kings. This is the last time we will speak of it."

Minos gave his old friend a serious look.

"Thank you," he said simply. "You cannot know what a comfort it is to know that I have your wisdom and support to lean on."

"You are welcome, old friend," Herodion replied. "I would not wish to be anywhere else right now... but you are right – it _is_ late and the journey from Athanos was both long and arduous. I would like to settle my family in our temporary home. The children especially ought to be settled for the night."

"Then by all means let us return to the sitting room and the ladies," Minos stated. "Alexarchos will see that you are safely conducted to the home in town where you will be staying and we will resume this conversation tomorrow."

He stood and came around the table, clapping his old friend on the back as Herodion stood alongside him, before ushering him out of the room to re-join their families.

* * *

The morning light was pale and wan as it broke through the morning haze. For the moment, the rains that had lashed the coast yesterday had cleared and the winds had died down, leaving the day fine. The Oracle looked out across the small precinct before the Pagenian temple from the doorway where she stood, watching the play of light across the surface of the flagstones. This was not a bad place she supposed – a haven of tranquillity in an uncertain world – and yet she yearned for the familiar surroundings of her own peaceful chambers beneath the great Temple of Poseidon in Atlantis itself.

 _I am out of sorts,_ she thought.

Her dreams had been so dark lately; shrouded in uncertainty. The different paths of the future were laid out before her and she desperately hoped that she could make sure they right one was taken. There were so many variables though; so many things that could go wrong; so many of the paths led to disaster and destruction.

 _This must not come to pass._

The only real question was how she should approach things; what she should do. There was, after all, a great deal at risk here.

 _We must not lose him. He must not fall into darkness._

The Oracle's eyes narrowed as she considered the problems and the options that she faced.

"What troubles you?"

Melas' mellifluous voice interrupted her thoughts and she turned to acknowledge Poseidon's High Priest.

"There are times when I wonder whether you share my gift of foresight," she murmured ironically.

"No," Melas replied, coming to her side, "and I would not wish to… yet it takes no prescience to see that you have been distracted these past days. Something is troubling your mind."

"With our flight from Atlantis and the cruelty of the Amphigeneians, we should all be troubled and all pray to the Gods."

"And I do… I pray that the Gods will deliver us from our current troubles," Melas replied. "But there is something more. What is it? Tell me…"

"The Gods have spoken," the Oracle answered with quiet intensity. "A new dawn is beginning. There is both much to hope for and much to fear."

She turned away from her closest ally and made her way back inside the building to the chamber that had been set up for the faithful to consult with her – a room vastly different from the oracular chamber beneath the Temple in Atlantis. She stopped and knelt before the large bowl on the floor, beginning to strew the surface of the water with sweet scented herbs as she muttered barely audible incantations.

A large hand came down over her own and stilled their movement. The Oracle stopped and looked down into her bowl for a moment before looking up to see Melas, crouched before her, his eyes reflecting his concern.

"What do you see?" he implored.

At least this early in the morning they were unlikely to be disturbed by any visitors, the Oracle reflected; although there were few who would dare to interrupt Poseidon's Oracle and his High Priest in any case.

She was all too aware though that the Queen had sent word that she would require a private audience with the Oracle first thing this morning and could therefore arrive at any time. To have her walk in on this conversation was something that the Oracle was keen to avoid if possible.

She blinked.

"I feel the presence of the God beside me," she replied, "and yet my vision is clouded and unclear. One thing is plain, however – we have just one hope for the future; to stave off destruction."

"Jason," Melas intoned.

"Jason," the Oracle agreed. "If he should falter or fall then thousands will perish and all Atlantis will be destroyed."

"This is nothing new," Melas stated, his eyes intent. "You have told me this many times in the past."

"It is nonetheless true," the Oracle said sharply. "Atlantis is facing many perils. Only he can save us."

She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment before continuing.

"There are many forces driving and pulling at Jason at present," she went on. "If he should give in to the darkness that gathers around him… then all will be lost."

"You speak of Pasiphae?"

The Oracle snorted – a curiously indelicate sound from a usually poised and enigmatic woman.

"No," she replied. "Pasiphae stands unabashed in the light as always. It is true that the source of many of her powers is darkness… and yet, in this case I genuinely believe she means Jason no harm. She would no sooner see him falter than I would. Strange as it may sound, Pasiphae is our ally in this. Her love for Jason may well overcome her baser motivations. She hungers for power and desires to maintain her grip on the throne but I have seen her love for her son demonstrated in our recent conversations." She paused and drew another deep breath – letting it out in a sigh. "No. It is not Pasiphae that we should fear."

"Then who?" Melas asked seriously.

"Jason himself," the Oracle murmured. "He has been showing clear signs of prescience – of the gift of sight. Unless he can learn to control the gifts he has been given – unless he fully accepts who he is and the abilities the Gods have granted him – he will be driven mad by them. His heart will blacken and he will be lost to us forever."

"You have seen this?"

"I have seen it," the Oracle confirmed, "and it must not come to pass… For the sake of all of us Jason must not fall into darkness." She glanced around the room. "But we must speak no more of this now. The Queen has demanded an audience this morning and I believe she will be here momentarily. I must prepare myself to speak with her."

Melas nodded.

"Then I will go to my duties," he said.

Once she was alone again, the Oracle bent low over the bowl and began to mutter prayers once more, her hands swirling complicated patterns in the herb strewn water. Her eyes closed as a vision took her, before snapping back open as the trance faded and she was hurled back into the real world, breathing hard and blinking.

 _This must not happen_ , she thought. _This future must be prevented_.

She stood and walked over to a low stone altar as another thought hit her.

 _Pasiphae is bringing Jason to me. That is why she has demanded an audience so early. I must prepare._

With practiced ease, she selected a herb from the pile on the altar, chopping it and placing it into a small bowl. Deep in thought, she ground some spices in a mortar and added them before pouring in a mixture of wine and water and stirring the concoction. Then she stood back. The last ingredients to the brew she was making had to be added at the last possible moment. For now she was as prepared as she could be. She smiled softly.

"I have been expecting you," she said softly.

In the doorway, Pasiphae restrained the urge to roll her eyes at the Oracle's statement. These apparently mysterious pronouncements might impress the weak minded but they did little for her. Of course the Oracle had been expecting her; she had sent word last evening after all.

"Spare me the cheap theatrics," she snapped.

The Oracle turned, her smile enigmatic, and stretched her hands out towards Jason, walking over to the young man and taking his hands in her own.

"I have been waiting for you," she said to him, completely ignoring Pasiphae's presence. She looked searchingly into Jason's eyes. "You have been troubled," she observed. "You should have come to me sooner."

Jason looked at her for a moment before looking away and licking his lips.

"Ah I see," the Oracle murmured sadly. "You no longer trust me as you once did."

"I want to," Jason answered honestly, meeting her eyes once more, "but you've hidden so many things from me. How can I be certain that you're going to tell me the truth now?"

"All I have done I have done to protect you," the Oracle replied. "I wish you could see that."

"I'm trying," Jason said. "It might just take a bit of time before I can fully trust you again."

The Oracle looked at him searchingly again.

"Very well," she said. "What is it that you need of me?"

She knew the answer of course – but equally knew that her next course of action depended on Jason and how much he was willing to open up to her.

Jason glanced at Pasiphae a little nervously. Pasiphae's encouraging nod and half smile reassured him somehow.

"I have been advised to talk to you," he said. "You have been kind to me from the moment I first arrived in Atlantis – even if you have kept things from me."

"I will always try to help you as much as I can," the Oracle replied. "What is it that you wish to talk about?"

She cast a look at Pasiphae as she spoke and saw the Queen smile knowingly.

"I've been having these dreams," Jason said with another half anxious look at his mother, "and there are times when… well… they come true. Dreams about the future." He swallowed hard. "Sometimes it happens when I'm awake too."

The Oracle sighed.

"The gift of foresight is both rare and difficult," she said softly. "It is given by the Gods to relatively few. The few who are blessed are born with the gift and in some it is seen in childhood. For others, though, it does not become apparent until they are adults." She paused for a moment. "If this is indeed a blessing you have been given then you must learn to use it; to control it. I _can_ help you with this… but first I must know how strong your gift is."

She turned away from Jason and moved back to the stone altar, taking a pinch of herbs and a second of dried flowers from small pots and sprinkling them onto the surface of the liquid in the bowl. Then she picked up the vessel, crossed to the centre of the room and knelt.

"It is time," she said.

"Time for what?" Jason asked, moving towards her and dropping down to kneel opposite her.

"I have done my best to guide you but change is upon us and now you must forge your own path," the Oracle replied. "I cannot help you further until we know the full extent of this gift the Gods have granted you. Drink deeply and we shall see."

She held out the bowl towards the young man placing her hands over his as he took it from her and raised it to his mouth, pulling a face at the taste.

"Clear your mind of all thoughts," she said softly.

She could pinpoint the exact moment that the realisation that something wasn't right – that the drink was drugged and affecting him in some way – came into Jason's eyes, even as his eyes glazed over and he began to sway unsteadily, reaching out to grasp her arms.

"Don't fight it," she murmured. "Let the kykeon wash over you."

As he toppled sideways, eyelids fluttering as he fought to stay conscious, she gently guided him into her waiting arms, holding his head against her chest and resting her chin against his curls and rocking him slightly as he panted desperately. She manoeuvred Jason quickly and carefully to the floor as he began to shake; the seizure she had induced gripping him, limbs spasming and head tossing from side to side as his eyes rolled beneath his lids.

"What have you done?" Pasiphae demanded angrily, striding forwards. "I will see you suffer for this."

"I have done what I had to," the Oracle snapped. "Jason will take no harm from this and it is necessary if you wish me to help him." She shot a sharp glare over her shoulder at the Queen. "Now be still and allow the thing to take its course," she ordered, turning her attention back to the writhing young man in front of her and beginning to chant loud prayers.

Jason was beyond knowing what was going on in the room around him. His body continued to react and thrash as the vision forced upon him took him – image upon image flashing before his eyes.

 _An Atlantian soldier sank down through deep water, blue cloak flowing out behind him and limbs loose in death._

* * *

 _Pasiphae stood triumphantly at the top of the steps of the Palace as the massed Atlantian guard knelt as one before her._

* * *

 _Ariadne fell to her knees, screaming at the sky, her beautiful face contorted and her elegant court dress and outstretched hands stained with bright, fresh blood as a knife fell from them to clatter against the marble tiles of the floor._

* * *

 _The Atlantian soldier sank further, his blank, dead eyes open and staring unseeingly at the water surrounding him._

* * *

 _Jason fought, hacking and slashing his way through his enemies, fighting on desperately in the face of overwhelming odds._

* * *

 _A knife protruded from the stomach of a blue clad figure, hands grabbing at it as blood pumped over them._

* * *

 _An explosion in a stack of crates blew them apart like matchsticks; large slivers of wood flung out with deadly force as the men standing near were tossed like rag dolls._

 _Atlantis burned._

* * *

 _Meriones stood shackled before the brazen bull, his head held high and his face impassive. A guard shoved him harshly in the centre of the back to force him to step forwards towards his fate._

* * *

 _Jason knelt before his mother, eyes burning as he looked up at her, awaiting his orders._

 _Pasiphae looked down at him, a cruel smile on her lips, knowing that she was in the position she had always wanted to be in: ruling Atlantis._

* * *

 _A young woman ran through woodland, a cloak billowing behind her, her hair streaming out – a tumbled mass of curls on one side and a series of thin, smooth plaits on the other._

* * *

 _Jason thrust the great double doors of the Temple open and stepped through into the shadowy space beyond, the anger on his face evident. He stalked forwards towards a figure half hidden in the shadows, every taut movement demonstrating his rage._

" _It's finished," he growled._

* * *

 _Jason sat on a rocky outcrop in the middle of the forest with a young woman at his side._

 _For a long moment they looked at one another and then both of them moved in and they were kissing passionately, her hand moving over his upper arm and his tangling in her hair, catching at the thin plaits on the one side._

* * *

 _The hissing of snakes alerted him to her presence long before he saw her. He lifted the torch higher and moved forwards, one hand against the slimy cave wall, running with water. The ground was slick underfoot and he moved carefully to avoid slipping. Every so often he caught his foot against something, half stumbling when he did. One of the times he stumbled, he lowered the torch to see what he had tripped on. It looked like a rock at first glance and then he realised it was a stone hand – a piece of a man, turned into a statue and then smashed. He shuddered and pressed on._

 _Ahead of him the cave opened out. She was standing with her back to him, shrouded in darkness. He drew his sword as quietly as possible and stepped forwards._

 _The snakes that wreathed her head hissed loudly and she turned with a cruel laugh._

 _He looked into her eyes and shuddered again: she was completely mad now._

" _Jason," she greeted him._

" _Medusa," he replied._

 _He raised his sword and prepared to take the life of a woman who had once been his friend._

* * *

 _The prow of a ship crested a great wave on a storm-tossed sea, the sky pitch black and the waves lashing wildly the sides of the vessel. The eyes painted on the prow rose and fell with the waves like some sort of great sea monster rearing up from the ocean, as forks of lightning lit the sky behind it. As it rose to the highest point the name came into view: Argo._

* * *

 _The soldier sank even further, the light around him fading as he slipped further and further from the surface. He landed hard on the newly created sea bed, a cloud of sand stirred up around him. Beyond him were blocks of stone and broken off pillars; the foot of a statue; part of a bed; a table; a child's board game; the head of the bull statue from the Temple._

 _The ruins of Atlantis lying on the sea floor._

Jason's eyes snapped open as he drew in a gasping breath. He pushed himself up, eyes wide, into the waiting arms of the Oracle, his breathing shuddering.

The Oracle drew him towards herself, resting his head against her chest as she rocked him gently; comfortingly. Jason reached up and clutched at her shoulder as she held him.

"What was that?" he asked.

"It is the fate that awaits us all," the Oracle replied, drawing back slightly to look into the young man's face. "We have already taken the first steps along this path. It is the future that we are trying to prevent."

Jason sat up and rested his arms against his bent knees, still shuddering.

"How?" he demanded. "How can anyone prevent that?"

"You can," the Oracle asserted. "You are not like ordinary men, Jason. You must embrace your destiny."

Jason snorted.

"But that was not the point in all this," the Oracle went on.

"So what was the point?" Pasiphae barked.

The Oracle turned to look at her sharply; she had almost managed to forget that the other woman was there.

"The point was that I wished to see how powerful Jason's gift of foresight is," she snapped, "as I think I have already explained." She turned back to Jason and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "There are some with this gift who have barely any strength at all – who only see the strongest of images and those only imperfectly. Likewise there are seers who are very strongly gifted – who the Gods speak with regularly – such seers are usually appointed oracles. I needed to know how powerfully the Gods had blessed you so that I would know how best to guide you."

"And your conclusion?" Pasiphae demanded.

"Your gift is stronger than I had expected," the Oracle said, ignoring the Queen and speaking directly to Jason. "You do not have the abilities of an oracle but you are much stronger than I would have anticipated for one who has come into their gift in adulthood. It is more normal for adults whose gift has manifested in early childhood to have the stronger powers of foresight. Now tell me about your dreams."

"What did you want to know?" Jason asked warily.

Pasiphae resisted the urge to sigh loudly. It seemed her son still couldn't bring himself to let his guard down fully – even when he knew that it would be to his benefit to open up.

"I want to know how often it is happening," the Oracle said softly.

"It's not every night," Jason replied, "and it's not every dream. Sometimes my dreams are just that: dreams."

"But it _is_ happening enough that you are not sleeping properly," Pasiphae said sharply.

Jason nodded awkwardly.

"Yeah," he admitted. "But that's not something particularly new. I once told Pythagoras and Hercules that insomnia and I are old friends."

"Your friend Pythagoras informed me of that," Pasiphae replied. "He seemed concerned."

"Pythagoras worries too much," Jason said firmly, not wanting to be drawn into a discussion on his sleeping habits.

"Do you always know the difference between a normal dream and one that foreshadows the future?" the Oracle enquired gently.

Jason looked startled

"Yes," he answered.

"How?" the Oracle asked.

"I… don't know," Jason replied slowly. "I just do. Is it important?"

"You must learn to control this gift you have been given. Your answers allow me to judge how best we might approach that." The Oracle paused. "I wish only to help you as I have always done."

"You told me yesterday that you believed some of the visions you have been experiencing were of the past and not the future," Pasiphae prompted.

She had been aware for weeks that this was the case – had spoken with the Oracle about it when she had first realised that Jason might have the gift of foresight (and she still wasn't sure whether it was a blessing or a curse) after the meeting with Anaxandros – but it would not do to let Jason know that; it might make him defensive if he knew they had been discussing him.

"Yeah but that was probably just my imagination," Jason argued. "My Dad always said I had an overactive imagination. He said that I needed to stop telling people about the things I made up – that they'd think I was a liar or a bit… well… not quite normal. That I was too old for imaginary friends and that sort of thing."

He pushed himself to his feet and moved over to the altar, keeping his back to the two women and apparently looking at the things on the stone surface. He felt distinctly uncomfortable talking about this; like he was betraying his father by talking about things the man had told him to keep to himself all those years ago.

The Oracle moved to stand at his shoulder.

"How old were you the first time you spoke to someone that no-one else could see?" she asked gently.

Jason shot her another startled look.

"I don't remember," he replied. "But Dad told me that they weren't really there; that it was just my imagination. I mean, all children have imaginary friends at one time or other, don't they?"

"Perhaps," Pasiphae replied ironically, coming up on his other side but keeping far enough away that he wouldn't feel hemmed in, "but I very much doubt that most children have dreams of the future."

Jason shook his head stubbornly.

"I didn't," he argued. "I just had vivid dreams, that's all. Dad explained that they were make believe – not real – and that I shouldn't tell people about them. That no-one really wanted to hear about them. I promised him that I wouldn't talk about them anymore. It was right before he went away."

"And you kept your promise," the Oracle murmured.

"Of course I did," Jason replied. "Besides, he was right – I grew out of it eventually, like all children do."

The Oracle smiled enigmatically and half turned away.

"But the things you saw in your dreams as a child came true later," she said with certainty.

Jason frowned.

"I don't know what you mean," he muttered defensively.

"I believe that you do know exactly what I mean," the Oracle murmured quietly.

Jason picked up a cup from on the altar and toyed with it, turning it in his hands until a gentle hand on his own stilled him. He looked down blankly at the hand covering his own, before looking up into the gentle eyes of the Seeress.

"Jason, I cannot help you if you will not let me," she said. "You must tell me."

Jason snorted and pulled away from her, withdrawing to the other side of the room to give himself some space.

"Yes," he answered shortly. "Sometimes it feels like the things I dreamt back then did come true. I used to dream about a city on a hill and a man with the head of a bull… but I don't really remember properly – I was too young. Isn't it possible that I'm just projecting things that have happened recently back onto childhood dreams? That I'm not really remembering them properly and that I'm embellishing them with things that have happened since."

Neither of the two women could miss the almost desperate note in his voice.

"No," the Oracle said. "I do not believe so."

"Then what am I?" the young man demanded helplessly. "You told me that I was touched by the Gods – that I was created by the Gods. What kind of monster did they create? What kind of monster am I?"

Pasiphae crossed the chamber in an instant and grabbed her son's hands.

"You are _not_ a monster," she said emphatically. "You are my son." She reached up with one hand to gently touch the side of Jason's face. "You are so very special," she said. "You are far more virtuous than I can ever pretend to be and you cannot know how much your presence means to me."

Jason swallowed hard. He didn't think he'd ever get used to open declarations of affection from anyone (least of all his mother) or the feeling of being wanted. He nodded bashfully.

"The Queen is right," the Oracle agreed. "You are no monster. The gift of foresight is hard to come to terms with and hard to control, but it _is_ a gift from the Gods."

She paused and sighed.

"It would appear, from what you have said, that your gift began to manifest in early childhood and that your Father was only too aware of your potential abilities. Whether he intended to or not, his instructions taught you to suppress these abilities… and that will make our job so much harder now."

"How so?" Pasiphae demanded sharply, turning to face the other woman.

"Because he is unconsciously fighting this every step of the way," the Oracle replied. "This is why your head aches whenever a vision breaks through," she said to Jason. "As it does now."

Jason grimaced.

"How did you know?" he asked, bringing up one hand to rub the tension out of the back of his neck.

"I was once a young girl subject to visions that I could not hope to understand or control," the Oracle answered. "I had to learn to focus them as you will so that now, to a large extent, I can choose when I will receive them. They do not occur at truly inconvenient moments and they do not force themselves upon me when I do not wish it much of the time – although there are occasions, of course, when Poseidon chooses to send me a vision for a purpose and then I cannot control the timing."

"Can you help me to get rid of this altogether?" Jason asked.

"No," the Oracle replied. "The Gods have given you this gift for a purpose and I cannot interfere in that even if I wished to."

"But you can teach me to control it?"

"I can," the Oracle said.

She crossed the room with a cup she had been preparing in her hands.

"Firstly, drink this to rid yourself of the headache," she instructed, "and then we will begin."


	21. Chapter 21

A/N Good Morning :-) Well here I am with another chapter at last. Please let me know if you enjoy it.

As always, I own nothing but my own thoughts - if I owned Atlantis they'd still be making it!

* * *

The sitting room Pasiphae had chosen as her private work space was light and airy with large south facing windows overlooking the formal gardens of the royal estate. Near the windows was the large table where she chose to complete any written duties that she had in what was the brightest part of the room. She looked thoughtfully out at those gardens now, the parchment containing the figures for wine production on the estate that she had requested lying discarded on the table in front of her.

Somewhere in the garden a bird trilled out its song. Pasiphae craned her neck to try to see it amongst the branches of the ornamental trees and leaves of the carefully cultivated bushes. A movement on one of the broad well-kept pathways caught her eye and she turned her head to look. As she watched, her former mother-in-law came into view, gliding gracefully along the path to a carved bench before sitting herself down on it, apparently enjoying the peace and tranquillity of the garden.

Pasiphae frowned lightly. She had promised Tyro that she would allow her to see Jason, even if it was only for a short time, and she had not yet worked out how to do it without her son finding out that the old woman was his grandmother; something that she still believed was undesirable – suspecting that Jason would allow the thought to distract him at the wrong moment and potentially place him in danger. His apparent ability to see both the past and the future complicated matters too. If she allowed him to meet Tyro, would it trigger some sort of vision and tell him who his grandmother was? It was an angle that she felt would require careful consideration.

Yet she had given the old woman her word, and that was not something that Pasiphae wished to go back on. She watched her former mother-in-law thoughtfully, noting how peaceful and relaxed the woman looked – how like Jason she looked – when she was alone. Pasiphae's mind busily mulled over the problem as she regarded the old woman; one more call upon her attention. She was equal to the tasks she had to complete, of that she had no doubt – but this relatively minor problem needed solving quickly before it became too much of a distraction from her other responsibilities.

She turned as someone diffidently tapped the door. Ah good. That must be the food that she had ordered for the midday meal.

"Come," she ordered.

A procession of serving girls brought plump olives, fresh bread, a selection of cheeses and meats, ripe fruit and rich wine into the room – enough for a solitary diner – and laid it all out on a low table near a reclining couch on the far wall of the room. Pasiphae nodded regally, satisfied that her orders had been obeyed, and waited for the servants to depart before standing and gliding across the room to lie on the couch.

She had not initially been expecting to eat alone but Minos informed her over breakfast that he would be attending a meeting with a small group of the allied kings and would order a light meal to be served there. With Ariadne engaged for the day with Prince Chalcon, who had decided to take the beautiful Princess riding, and Jason visiting the Oracle, it had seemed a waste of both time and resources to have a full meal in the dining room with only herself in attendance. Far better that the kitchens should concentrate their efforts on producing a superlative supper for the King and his guests.

The Queen sighed to herself as she popped an olive into her mouth. It went against all her natural instincts to leave her son alone with a woman she had long considered to be her enemy. After all, who knew what the Oracle might be telling him? Pasiphae knew that the Seeress could not actually lie – that her gift prevented it – and yet she had a way of manipulating the truth to make you believe what she wanted you to believe. She could be insidiously poisoning Jason against his family if she believed it suited her purposes and Pasiphae would not know.

She sighed again.

No. She knew deep down that the Oracle was by far the best person to help Jason now and had suspected that her own presence would only hinder matters. She had to believe that the Oracle was her ally in this matter; she had to trust that the woman would act in everyone's best interests – but trust was not something that Pasiphae found easy to come by.

She ate and drank distractedly, mind too busy planning her next moves to truly enjoy the meal. There were still lots of things that she had to do today before she could allow herself to relax. One of those, of course, was speaking to Alexarchos and making sure that the man understood that _she_ was the ultimate authority when it came to decisions about the household and that he should not take it upon himself to make any important decision without consulting her. For now he could wait though. It might do him good to make him sweat a little; to make him worry about his meeting with her; to worry about his position. That way he would be easier to terrify into submission.

Pasiphae took one last sip of wine and carefully placed the vessel back on the table, before ringing for the servants to clear away the remains of her meal. Pasiphae watched them work imperiously but silently. She was not about to fraternise with servants after all. It was only as the last one was about to leave that she acted.

"You!" she said sharply. "Find the man Pythagoras and bring him to me."

"At once My Lady," the man muttered.

Pasiphae fought the urge to roll her eyes. She could not stand mumbling servants. Did they really think she wanted to strain her ears to hear their responses? She would never have stood for such a thing in the Palace and was not about to let standards slip while they were here in Pagenia. She made the mental note to add it to the list of things she wished to chastise Alexarchos about.

Smiling acidly to herself, she reclined on the couch and waited. In a shorter time than she would have expected, the door was tapped once more. At least the servants knew how to follow orders quickly, she decided, even if they were barely articulate.

"Come," she ordered.

Pythagoras looked a little nervous, she noted. Pasiphae nearly smiled. Her reputation for ruthlessness was carefully cultivated and used to her best advantage at all times. Whilst she had no desire to frighten Jason's younger friend unnecessarily, it would not hurt for him to be wary of her. It would mean that he would be more likely to follow her orders without argument.

He came across to room and dropped to one knee in the traditional manner of genuflection. He stayed there – as was expected until he was given leave to move.

"For goodness sake get up and sit down," Pasiphae snapped. "I am not about to have a conversation with the top of your head."

Pythagoras swallowed hard as he stood up but Pasiphae couldn't help noticing that the look he gave her was respectful but direct; that although he was nervous, he was not cowed. She gestured impatiently at a nearby chair and waited as the young man perched on the edge of it.

"Some days ago, I requested that you should begin testing my son to ascertain where the gaps lie in his education," Pasiphae began. "I had anticipated that you would report to me reasonably quickly." She held up one hand to forestall any protest. "I am aware that there were circumstances which precluded this," she went on. "Not least your journey with Jason to Athanos… Yet I believe that now you are returned the time has come for you to deliver your report."

Pythagoras straightened in his chair and nodded.

"I thought that might be why you had sent for me, My Lady," he said softly, reaching beneath the open fronted outer tunic he usually wore and removing a piece of parchment from somewhere inside.

"I am glad to see you come prepared," Pasiphae replied with some satisfaction.

"It seemed prudent, Your Majesty," Pythagoras answered.

"A clever and _practical_ young man," the Queen said coolly. "That is something which I can appreciate… I have always preferred to be prepared for any eventuality myself. Now tell me… how well educated _is_ Jason?"

"Better educated than I suspect you feared, My Lady," Pythagoras murmured. "There _are_ gaps but they are mostly relating to the history and culture of Atlantis itself rather than in basic knowledge. Mathematics is very good… although his way of expressing number is not one I have encountered before – but the answers were correct so it must simply be a difference in form. You already know that Jason reads and writes well. His use of syntax and grammar is also good… but he struggled when it came to comprehending formal Greek – the language of the ancestors – I suspect he has had little opportunity to study this. It is relatively easy to rectify though… it will simply be a matter of practice. Rhetoric and oration are not something I believe Jason will ever enjoy or find particularly easy. It is not in his nature – he is a little too self-effacing for that. He _did_ recite for me with a little prompting… I think he believed I was joking when I first asked him to – but he was clearly uncomfortable doing so."

Pasiphae's eyes narrowed.

"He will need to learn to get over that," she asserted sharply. "Public speaking is a skill which is of great importance and must be cultivated."

Pythagoras glanced back at the parchment in his hands.

"Aside from an interest in anatomy, the natural sciences are not my forte," he admitted. "Jason's knowledge of them seems reasonable enough to me. Astronomy… he can identify most of the major constellations – although he knows them by strange names… Indeed, it might be interesting to make a comparative study of the names that he uses and the names that are more common to us."

"Do that in your own time," Pasiphae snapped. "That _is not_ what I engaged you for."

"No, Your Majesty," Pythagoras hurriedly agreed. "I did intend to suggest… that is, of course I will not undertake… I mean…"

"Stop babbling and get on with it," Pasiphae ordered impatiently.

Pythagoras swallowed hard.

"Jason's grasp of the geography of Hellas is… I suppose it could best be described as… adequate. He could identify most of the major cities and states… although he was far from clear on all of them. Some of the names he uses for places are strange and there _were_ places that he could not identify at all. I believe that you know Jason grew up far from these shores and in fact I am a little pleased that he has learned as much of the geography of the region as he has – particularly of Atlantis itself… of which I believe he knew nothing before he arrived here." He paused and sighed. "Jason's grasp of the laws of Atlantis is extremely weak," he admitted, "and his knowledge of the history is almost non-existent. He knows little of the Gods and cannot name their feast days or recite any prayers. He knows nothing of the customs surrounding our festivals and can only name the main attributes of one or two of the major Gods."

"Go on," Pasiphae said, frowning deeply; her mind already working out which subjects Pythagoras should tackle first when tutoring her strong-willed son.

"I have not had the time or opportunity to assess art, music, philosophy or poetry. I intended to but our journey to Athanos precluded it. I will, of course, administer the tests in these subjects as soon as possible and deliver the results to you."

Pasiphae flicked her hand dismissively.

"They are less important at this time," she stated. "I would not have your testing of these subjects hold up the start of your lessons in others. They can be looked at later."

"Yes, My Lady," Pythagoras murmured. He looked at the Queen with a slightly wry smile. "I must admit I did not even look at gymnasium," he admitted. "Jason is far better than me at it so I did not really see a point."

"Yes," Pasiphae agreed drolly. "I believe you are correct. If there is one subject that my son does _not_ need instruction in it is gymnasium… Some formal military training would seem to be in order, however… but I will not expect that of _you_." She looked at Pythagoras out of the corner of her eyes, raising an eyebrow as she did. "I will speak with General Dion… perhaps he might be able to allocate an officer to assist in this. If nothing else, some grounding in tactics will be beneficial."

Pythagoras chose not to reply. He knew that this was not his forte after all. He sat and waited in silence as Pasiphae mulled things over.

The Queen held out one hand imperiously, silently demanding the parchment that Pythagoras had been consulting. It was not that she disbelieved anything that the young man had been telling her – it was more that she wanted to give herself a moment to consider matters properly. She perused the parchment with narrowed eyes.

"Time will be set aside each day for study," she informed Pythagoras. "I will draw up a schedule. There may be days when Jason is required to attend to other duties – you will be informed on the days when your services are not required. You will begin with history, law and rhetoric. As far as I can see, these are the subjects where Jason's education is most lacking. He _will_ require a grounding in formal Greek but that is something you can tackle once his knowledge and understanding of the subjects I have identified as most important is improved. I will expect you to administer tests in those subjects you have missed so far, to determine what further tutoring my son might require but, as I have said, those tests should not interfere with your lessons. I will also expect regular progress reports and that you will inform me of any problems. Jason will be expected to work to the best of his abilities and I will not have him using his friendship with you as an excuse to perform at a lesser level… is this clear?"

"Yes, My Lady," Pythagoras replied softly.

"Good," Pasiphae retorted. "I will also impress this upon Jason. My expectations of him _are_ high and my expectations of you as a tutor are no less so. I will expect regular testing to ascertain whether Jason is learning as rapidly as I would anticipate and you _will_ inform me of the results of those tests – whether they are good or bad. I hope that this arrangement will work for Jason's sake and I will not remove you from your position for a poor test result… but make no mistake, I will not hesitate to end your employment if I feel that you are not living up to expectations or that you are allowing Jason to take advantage of your friendship and _good nature_ and underachieving as a result."

The words 'good nature' were almost said with a sneer.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Pythagoras responded. He had expected no less after all.

"Very well," Pasiphae said imperiously. "You will begin tomorrow after breakfast. I believe that Jason will be required by the King later in the morning but no doubt a man of your _abilities_ will be able to work around that. You will then continue after the midday meal as time allows."

"You do not wish us to begin this afternoon?"

Pasiphae's eyes softened.

"No," she said more gently than before. "No, I believe tomorrow will do well enough. Jason has had business with the Oracle today and I do not know how long that business will take. I suspect that it will have been difficult and that he will be drained afterwards. I would not have your lessons beginning badly because he is too tired to be receptive."

She looked at Pythagoras thoughtfully.

"I believe that I owe a debt of gratitude to your friend Hercules; that I must give him my thanks," she went on. "It was he, was it not, who told Jason to confide in me?"

Pythagoras restrained himself from smiling broadly but inside he was relieved. So Jason had told his mother about the prophetic dreams and visions he had been having? Good. He always fared better when he could be persuaded to talk about his worries and problems, and, given her own abilities (or at least the abilities she was rumoured to have), Pasiphae was in a far better place to help him under the circumstances than either one of his friends.

"It was, You Majesty," the mathematician replied steadily.

"Then you may inform him that I am grateful for his… _intervention_ ," Pasiphae said imperiously. "You have your instructions," she added. "I will not detain you any further."

It was a clear dismissal and Pythagoras took it as such, standing and bowing respectfully to the Queen, even as his mind turned towards the task she had set for him.

Once he had gone, Pasiphae sat back, deep in thought. She believed she had impressed upon the young man the importance of his role and her expectations of him – now she just had to do the same with Jason. She hoped he would not fight against her instructions out of sheer stubbornness. Surely he would not – he was essentially a good boy after all.

A tap at the door startled her, making her frown deeply. She was not expecting to be disturbed after all. In fact, her only other appointment as such would be with Alexarchos and surely he would not have been foolhardy enough to arrive before he was sent for?

"Come," she ordered sharply.

The servant who entered the room was very young and very nervous.

"Forgive me, My Lady," she mumbled. "There is a man to see you. He says you are expecting him."

"Speak up girl!" Pasiphae snapped. "If you cannot deliver a simple message audibly then I will instruct Alexarchos to replace you with someone who can! Now… I do not believe that I am expecting anyone. What did this man actually say?"

The girl looked at the Queen with large, frightened eyes.

"He said his name was Timais, My Lady," the girl answered, trembling. "He said that you had sent for him to discuss improvements to wine production." She said the last bit as though she was reciting it.

Pasiphae raised an eyebrow.

"Where is the man now?" she demanded.

"He came to the servant's entrance, My Lady," the girl replied. "The head cook told him to wait in the room where Master Alexarchos does the accounts usually."

"Then go and fetch him at once girl," Pasiphae barked. "He must not be kept waiting any longer."

Once the servant had scuttled off, Pasiphae stood and crossed to the window, allowing herself a brief gloating smile. It appeared that one of her ploys might be paying off already. The door opened and closed behind her and she heard someone entering the room, but she did not turn yet; making the newcomer wait to emphasise their place as a supplicant and her own superiority.

"Your Majesty." Timais' gravelly voice was deeply respectful; unctuous even.

"Timais," Pasiphae acknowledged, still without turning – apparently directing all of her attention to the scene out of the window.

Silence stretched out for a moment or two.

Finally, Pasiphae turned to find the man still down on one knee, head bowed deferentially. She swept across the room and sat back down on the couch gracefully.

"You have news for me?" she demanded. "You have done as I ordered?"

"I have, My Lady," Timais confirmed. "I have followed the boy closely and observed all his actions."

"You were not seen?"

"No, My Lady. I have done this many times before."

"So," Pasiphae said, "what have you discovered?"

"Prince Chalcon appears to be an admirable young man," Timais answered. "He is kind, dutiful and well liked by the men his father has brought with him… which is more than can be said for King Agrias."

"That is hardly news," Pasiphae retorted with a snort. "Agrias of Tanagra has never been popular. So you have found _nothing_ then."

"I would not say that Your Highness," her companion murmured respectfully.

Pasiphae's eyes narrowed as she looked at him. Timais was a non-descript man of middling years; ordinary; uninteresting. She suspected that was the secret of his success at information gathering – that he was essentially unmemorable and could move around largely unnoticed. She had engaged his services several times over the years but had never actually met him before – preferring to work through Heptarian in years gone by.

"Do not try my patience," she said sharply. " _What_ have you discovered?"

"As I said, Prince Chalcon appears to be a fine young man in every respect… but he has a secret that he would do anything to keep concealed – especially from his father."

Pasiphae leant forwards, all her attention now focussed on the man in front of her.

"What secret?" she demanded.

"Although the Prince is well liked, he has not real allies," Timais observed. "King Agrias' temper is legendary and he brooks no dissention from his will."

"Neither do I," Pasiphae snapped. "Get on with it!"

"The only person in the retinue that the Prince even comes close to trusting is his manservant, Damianos. Last night, Damianos was dispatched back to Tanagra with a message. I have managed to learn the contents of this message."

"And?"

"It would appear that Prince Chalcon has been having an assignation with a girl," Timais replied with a smirk. "His father would certainly view her as unsuitable. I have made enquiries and learned that this girl is a daughter of minor nobility – certainly not someone who King Agrias would view as a good match even for his youngest son. The King has been most particular about matches for his sons… With the exception of the eldest who was married off to his own cousin, all the other Princes have been married or at least betrothed to princesses from other states. Of course, none of them were heirs to the throne in the way that Princess Ariadne is, but they have brought alliances, power and status to Tanagra… and betrothing his youngest son to the heir to Atlantis has been a great coup for King Agrias. If he were to find out that Prince Chalcon had been dallying with some random young woman and putting all his plans in jeopardy? Well… I suspect his response would be immediate and dire."

"You have done well, Timais," Pasiphae purred.

She stood in one sinuous movement and glided across the room to the table. Opening a box on the top, she removed a small pouch and returned to the couch, sitting regally and holding the pouch out to Timais.

The man came forwards and took the pouch from her, hefting it slightly in his hand to feel the weight and bowing low.

"I am only glad to be use My Lady," he murmured. "I trust that you will remember this service."

Pasiphae frowned, her face hardening. She had thought to use Timais' services again in the future (he had proved to be a useful servant several times over the years) but she had no intention of allowing him to think that she was in anyway beholden to him.

"On the contrary," she replied in a deadly quiet voice. "I will do everything in my power to forget that we ever met, Timais, and if you value your life I would suggest that you do the same… do you understand?"

Timais actually had the gall to look affronted.

"Your Majesty cannot mean to threaten me," he stated bluntly. "I am sure, after all, that King Agrias would be deeply concerned that you have been arranging to spy on his son."

"He might… but you will not tell him."

"Are you sure of that My Lady?" Timais enquired, apparently certain that he had Pasiphae exactly where he wanted her.

"As certain as I am that you will choose to forget this meeting," Pasiphae retorted, still in the same quiet but lethal tone. "But enough of this… _unpleasantness_. You must be eager to return home. As I recall Lissagra is particularly lovely at this time of year. And how is your beautiful wife? Does she still frequent the dressmaker just to the north of the agora? And your children? Three of them are there not? Your eldest boy must be ten by now."

It paid to have many sources of information, she reflected, and more than worthwhile finding out everything you could about the people who were serving you – especially in more nefarious capacities. She was certain the Timais would get the point.

The man stared at her in open horror.

"Nearly eleven, Your Majesty," he said, unable to keep the hint of fear from registering in his voice.

"It would be so unfortunate if anything were to happen to them." Pasiphae's face hardened even more and she leant forward so that her face was mere inches away from her companions. "Do not make the mistake of crossing me," she said in a deadly whisper. "I do not think you would like the consequences if you did. Now, you will leave and return to Lissagra and if you are very lucky I will succeed in forgetting that I ever met you."

Timais swallowed hard.

"Yes, My Lady," he replied, cowed into submission. "It will be as you say."

"Then I believe we understand one another," Pasiphae said, smiling coldly. "You have been well paid for your services and now you will leave here and you will never speak of this meeting to anyone; will never even think of it again. You will live out your life quietly and forget that you ever came here… unless you would like your family to pay the price."

"No, You Majesty," Timais answered. "I have never been to Pagenia. I am no more than a simple trader and I will be very pleased to go home to Lissagra."

"Good," Pasiphae retorted. "Now leave!"

After he had left the room, she sat back and thought, lips pursed and hands interlace in front of her mouth. Every instinct was telling her that Agrias needed to be disposed of; to be dealt with permanently before he could damage her plans for the future irrevocably. Poison would be the ideal choice of weapon – something slow so that he would not even realise something was wrong until it was too late; something that could be put down to natural causes. Yet she daren't do it for now. Minos needed Agrias' men too much. If the Tanagran King were to die, there was no guarantee that his successor would follow through with the bargains he had made; that the Tanagran army would continue to support Minos. It was fully believable that they would fall into some disarray in the immediate aftermath of Agrias' death and that they would be recalled home to ensure the continued stability of Tanagra.

No, Pasiphae could not risk that happening. Agrias would be allowed to live… for now. Still, she was not about to allow the Tanagran boy to marry Ariadne and ultimately take the throne – that was Jason's place whether he realised it yet or not.

A memory rose unbidden of another young girl, barely sixteen years old, too thin and with big dark eyes that seemed too large for her face – essentially sold into marriage with a stranger to save her kingdom; to ensure her family's safety and her brother's place on the throne. Pasiphae shook herself. It did no good to remember; no good to dwell on the past and on what might have been if things had been just a little different. It was true that she had once been a young girl in a similar position to the one Ariadne found herself in now and therefore had a certain amount of sympathy with her stepdaughter's plight, but she was not about to allow herself to become weak because of it.

If Timais' information was correct (and he had never failed her in the past), then she had leverage over Prince Chalcon that she could use. Pasiphae smiled to herself. The engysis would be broken and the marriage would not go ahead. She was now certain of it.

* * *

Jason trudged tiredly back across the courtyard towards the main steps of the house. He'd been with the Oracle far longer than he had expected to be and didn't feel like it had been all that helpful to be honest. He had only just managed to grasp the very edges of what the Seeress had been talking about as she had attempted to begin to teach him to focus what she kept insisting on referring to as his 'gift' (although Jason was more inclined to think of it as a curse personally). She had insisted that he was doing really well, but Jason really didn't feel like he was; felt stupid and slow because he just couldn't seem to get what she was saying.

Eventually, she had told him to go and get some rest and Jason had been only too glad to leave to be honest; he had a headache that was rapidly reaching monstrous proportions (next stop migraine city – and he didn't want _that_ ) and wasn't sure how much more he could actually take right now. All he wanted to do was to curl up somewhere quiet and dark and to try to sort through everything he had been told today.

"Jason."

Ariadne's voice stopped him in his tracks and he turned with an approximation of his usual bright smile. Things might be awkward between them at the moment but there would never be a time when he wouldn't make time for Ariadne; when he would be so rude as to walk away from her. He loved her too much for that.

 _Don't think of that_ , he told himself sternly. _You can't think of her like that anymore. You'll both end up hurt if you can't let go._

The beautiful Princess walked over to him, smiling gently, her eyes warm with affection ( _don't think of it as love_ ). She reached out her hand as though she was going to take his, only to let it fall helplessly at the last moment.

"Hello," Jason said.

"Hello," Ariadne replied. "I had not seen you today. I missed you at breakfast and I was worried. Are you alright?"

"Worried about me? Why? I'm fine," Jason answered hurriedly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Ariadne half reached out again and then aborted the gesture once more.

"When you went to Athanos and you were gone for so many days, I could not help but fear for you," Ariadne said. "I do not think I could bear it if something happened to you… The thought that I might never see you again… it has tormented me. Especially since I did not even say goodbye or wish you luck."

She looked almost on the verge of tears.

Jason longed to pull her in for a hug but knew that he couldn't; that it would be inappropriate under the circumstances.

"Ariadne, we can't do this," he murmured, feeling the pit open up in his stomach again.

"I know."

"Because you are you, and I am me… and you are betrothed to another."

Ariadne closed her eyes briefly. Hearing her words to Jason on the eve of the Pankration recited back to her now was a bitter thing to have to swallow – although she knew that Jason was not trying to be unkind; that he was hurting as much as she was.

"I have said it before, but if the choice was mine alone…" she said softly.

"I know," Jason replied. "I've always known… and if things were different I wouldn't leave you either. Not for a single moment." He swallowed and looked at her earnestly. "But we are who we are and we both have different parts to play; different responsibilities. I understand that now. I've accepted what cannot be… but… Ariadne, you know you can always trust me don't you? I will always be there. I will always help if it's within my power. I promise that I won't let you down."

"You never have," Ariadne whispered.

"There you are." A bright voice boomed out across the courtyard. "I was beginning to wonder where you had got to. I took the horses back to the stables and left them with one of the servants."

Ariadne turned to greet the newcomer with a smile that would only appear fixed to those who knew her best.

"Prince Chalcon," she said. "As you can see, I did not go far."

Chalcon strode across the courtyard to join her, looking curiously at Jason.

"Jason, this is Prince Chalcon of Tanagra," she murmured. "Prince Chalcon, this is Jason… a kinsman of my family. He is recently returned from Athanos."

"Ah," Chalcon said, smiling. "You must be King Minos' champion. My father has told me about you… although knowing my father's biases, I suspect he may not have been entirely accurate." He hesitated for a moment. "My father can be a little… cruel," he admitted. "I hope you will not judge me by his behaviour and opinions… I am very pleased to make your acquaintance Jason."

"Your Highness," Jason replied, nodding his head in the way his mother had instructed him to do.

"No," Chalcon stated. "That will not do. I see no need for titles here. My name is Chalcon… nothing more."

"Your father might see it differently," Jason pointed out.

He frowned, feeling a little hypocritical – after all, he didn't like it when Pasiphae insisted on people referring to him as 'My Lord'.

"My father does not need to know," Chalcon said, smiling conspiratorially. "You are a kinsman to the Princess here… and I would like us to be friends."

Jason tried to smile politely. Making friends with the Tanagran Prince was really the last thing he felt like doing but Chalcon seemed pleasant enough and was clearly trying hard. It would be rude of him to refuse, he supposed – and, really, what reason did he have to dislike the man? Because Chalcon was betrothed to Ariadne? That was hardly his fault; that was his father's doing not his.

"Of course," he said, attempting a smile that was more than a little rueful. "I would be honoured to be your friend."

"That is good!" Chalcon declared.

He clapped the younger man on the shoulder enthusiastically, although he used so much force that Jason felt his knees begin to buckle slightly.

"Are you absolutely sure you are alright?" Ariadne asked again, a faint frown marring her beautiful face. "You look tired."

"I'm fine," Jason replied. "Really. I am still a bit tired from the journey yesterday but that's all."

"If that is the case then we should leave you to go and rest," Chalcon said, not unkindly. "I have been on enough long journeys myself to know how hard it can be to catch up on rest afterwards. I understand that there is to be a feast tonight. I hope to see you there? It would be pleasant to have friendly conversation with someone close to my own age for once."

"I will be there," Jason confirmed cautiously.

He wasn't completely sure how he felt about the Tanagran Prince yet and the combination of his pounding headache and tangled emotions weren't helping him think clearly.

"Good… good," Chalcon replied. He hesitated for a moment. "If I am honest I do have an ulterior motive," he admitted. "I have spent most of my adult life attending suppers, feasts and banquets with a succession of very dull old men who my father has gathered as advisors. To be frank, their conversation bores me. I have few friends and none who are with me in Pagenia so if you are not there I will be condemned to another evening of tedious company… apart from Ariadne of course – but doubtless she will be dragged off by the ladies at some point in the evening." He smiled at the Princess and then turned back to Jason with a vaguely mischievous grin.

Jason couldn't help returning the smile. Having had to attend a few formal dinners now, he could fully understand Chalcon's feelings.

"I'll save you from boredom if you'll do the same for me," he said.

"It may not be the dull advisors that Jason needs rescuing from," Ariadne interjected, her eyes dancing. "The last few formal dinners we have had here, he has been accosted by several of the local ladies. There is one in particular who seems most taken with his company. She is the wife of one of the town officials."

"Not that woman in the tight frock?" Jason muttered, looking aghast. "Please don't tell me _she's_ going to be there tonight…"

"Courage, my friend," Chalcon said with a laugh. "If you can rescue me from the dull old men, I will keep the overly familiar women away from _you_." He paused for a moment. "Perhaps it is too forward of me to ask, but do you hunt?"

"It depends what you mean," Jason answered. "I hunt for food not pleasure."

"It is a good way to put fresh meat on the table," Chalcon replied. "If you would be agreeable, perhaps we could hunt together at some point… or spar. Whichever you would prefer… but maybe I am getting too far ahead of myself? Forgive me. It is just that if we are to be friends, I would like us to get to know one another… and I would wish it to be away from the meetings that King Minos is having every day." He hesitated again. "I just feel that the stiff and formal setting in which we live is not a good place to get to know someone… which is why I suggested today's excursion," he added to Ariadne. "If we are to be married, we really should get to know each other a little better."

Jason's guts twisted at the comment.

"I would be happy to spar or hunt," he said. "Whatever you'd like to do."

"Then we will arrange it," Chalcon replied. "But for now we will take our leave of you. This beautiful creature has promised me a guided tour of the gardens before I have to return to the town to get ready for tonight's feast." He gestured towards Ariadne, his eyes sparkling playfully.

Once they had gone, Jason dropped his head forwards and pinched the bridge of his nose hard between thumb and forefinger, blowing out a tired breath as he did. Tension was ratchetting his headache even higher – a constant thumping that made it nearly impossible to think straight – and that encounter hadn't helped. He didn't know what to make of Chalcon. The man seemed likeable enough (almost over eager in his efforts to be friendly) and it wasn't his fault that he was going to marry the woman that Jason loved, but Jason still wasn't sure how he felt.

"Are you alright?"

Jason started. He wished people wouldn't keep sneaking up on him. He turned to face Pythagoras.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" he asked plaintively.

"Well I cannot speak for anyone else, but in my experience it is not normal to stand in the middle of a courtyard staring at the ground," Pythagoras replied. "But then, you have never been completely normal." He grinned brightly to show that he was only teasing.

Jason grunted in response and Pythagoras' bright smile vanished instantly – being replaced by a worried look.

"You did not answer my question," he pointed out gently.

"I'm fine," Jason answered shortly.

Pythagoras winced. He knew Jason's 'I'm fine' only too well and knew that it rarely meant that he truly was alright; more often than not it actually meant that his friend was about as far from fine as it was possible to be but didn't want to talk about whatever was troubling him. Time for a different tactic then.

"Here," he said, producing a small vial from a satchel on his hip and handing it to his friend.

Jason took it with a frown.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I had an audience with the Queen earlier to discuss a schedule for study," Pythagoras said obliquely, ignoring Jason's audible frustrated sigh. "She informed me that we were not to start studying together until tomorrow as you were with the Oracle and she suspected that it would not have been an easy meeting. I haven't had the same sort of dealings with the Oracle that you have, but on the rare occasions I have spoken with her I have found that her pronouncements are rather difficult to understand and have given me a headache. As you have been with her for some time today, I thought that might help to take the edge off." He gestured towards the vial he had handed his friend.

Jason took it and shook his head gently – immediately wishing he hadn't when his headache spiked.

"Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself," he murmured ruefully, swallowing the contents of the vial in one quick gulp.

"No," Pythagoras disagreed. "I do not… but I do know you well enough to know that you would suffer in silence if I let you."

Jason rolled his eyes, although he did not verbally disagree.

Pythagoras gave him a long look, noting the tension in Jason's shoulders; the air of disquiet that seemed to roll off him in waves.

"Bathhouse or beach?" he asked.

Jason smiled – not quite his usual bright lop-sided grin but getting towards it.

"Beach," he replied, needing no explanation for Pythagoras' question.

Pythagoras returned his smile.

"Let's go then," he said.

Without another word, the two young men turned and jogged back across the courtyard and through the archway, heading away from the estate and down towards the town.

* * *

The beach at Pagenia was very much like the beach at Atlantis; both were remarkably peaceful places. The fishing boats that launched from the shore would be far out to sea now as the fisherman that worked in these waters took advantage of the break in the winter weather and the relatively calm seas today.

The sound of the waves lapping at the shore was soothing, broken every so often by the cry of a solitary gull overhead; a strangely haunting and lonely sound.

Pythagoras sat quietly on the beach, ostensibly studying the sea birds, but casting occasional sidelong glances at his companion.

Jason had taken off his shoes and sat down, burying his feet in the sand and turning his face toward the winter sun (pale and wan but warmer than he would have expected for this time of year), his hands splayed on the sand behind him to support himself. Neither he nor Pythagoras had spoken since they had arrived here (their friendship comfortable and secure enough that neither one of them felt the need to fill every silence with unnecessary chatter) but the mathematician was pleased to see the tension seeping back out of his friend with every moment that passed.

He returned to his observation of the birds, reaching down into his satchel to take out parchment and charcoal, hoping to attempt a sketch of the gull circling above him.

"Thanks for this."

Jason broke the silence without turning to look at Pythagoras.

"We all need a break now and again," Pythagoras replied, putting his attempt at a drawing to one side and turning to focus his attention on his friend, resting his arms loosely on his bent knees.

"Maybe," Jason acknowledged. "Today's a bad day," he admitted. "I really thought I'd got beyond dark days like this."

"Everyone has bad days," Pythagoras pointed out. "I think, perhaps, that you are just a little more aware of them after what happened a few months ago."

"It's possible," Jason agreed. "I just hate it that I seem to manage to involve everyone else too; to worry them. I hate it that whenever I have a day like this you and Hercules seem so worried."

Pythagoras sighed softly.

"I would think myself a poor friend if I did not worry," he said, hooking his arms around his knees. "I _do_ worry about you when this happens because I do not like to see you unhappy… but I also worry when you go off on one of those ridiculously heroic missions that you seem to set yourself… just as I worry about Hercules drinking or gambling too much. I still fear that he will go off one day and do something stupid to try to save Medusa; that he will jump in without thinking and we will not be able to save him. It is natural to worry about your friends; your family… and I suspect, if you are honest, that you feel exactly the same about Hercules and me… After all, I seem to recall a man who offered his life as a sacrifice in place of me with less than two day's acquaintance… and who insisted on staying with me when the Furies were hunting me and the situation looked hopeless. You told me then," he went on, nudging Jason's shoulder with his own, "that that is what friends are for."

Jason snorted quietly.

"It was the right thing to do," he protested. "I couldn't let you be killed by the Minotaur or face the Furies on your own. I would have been being selfish if I hadn't at least tried to help."

"Just as you felt that you had to make the bargain with Circe to save Hercules and Medusa," Pythagoras murmured, "and you could not have lived with yourself if you had not… As I said then, that is why you are the noblest of all of us."

Jason shrugged and looked away, embarrassed.

Pythagoras smiled affectionately and shook his head.

"What will it take for you to believe that Hercules and I care every bit as much for you as you care for us?" he asked.

He didn't really expect an answer to the question; he suspected Jason didn't know the answer anyway.

"I do know that you both care." Jason's softly spoken statement took Pythagoras by surprise. "We're family… but just because I know that you care and that you worry… well, it doesn't mean I have to like worrying you does it?"

"No," Pythagoras agreed, "because I would not like to feel I had upset or worried you either… but equally you have to accept that it is in my nature to worry."

"If you didn't have anything else to worry about you'd worry about not being worried," Jason teased gently.

"Probably," Pythagoras replied, breaking into a grin.

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes.

"I am not surprised that today has not been easy," Pythagoras said eventually. "You have been under increasing pressure lately and telling both the Queen and the Oracle about the visions you have been having cannot have been easy."

Jason grimaced.

"She told me that I can't get rid of them," he admitted. "She said I have to learn to control them. That they're a gift from the Gods; a blessing… but I'm not really sure I believe that. It just makes me more of a freak than ever."

Pythagoras frowned deeply.

"Having different abilities from other people does not make you a freak," he said, perhaps a little more forcefully than he intended. "Hercules has exceptional strength. Is he 'a freak'. I am more intelligent than some. Am I 'a freak'?"

"Well I'm not sure any of us could be classed as completely normal," Jason pointed out with a wry smile.

"The point I am trying to make," Pythagoras went on, ignoring the fact that his friend had spoken, "is that everyone is different. We all have different talents and abilities… and that is as it should be. I believe that the Gods give us our talents for a reason. That we each have a destiny and that our unique abilities have been granted to us to allow us to fulfil that destiny."

"And what if someone doesn't want their destiny?" Jason asked quietly, looking out to sea. "What if I wish to break free of this fate that has been decided for me? If I refuse to follow their plan?"

"Jason, please," Pythagoras implored. "Even you cannot defy the will of the Gods. They will destroy you if you try."

He looked almost stricken. Jason glanced across at him and frowned. He had forgotten just how much Pythagoras revered and feared the Gods.

"Don't worry," the young hero murmured, reaching out to place a hand on his mathematically inclined friend's arm. "I'm not really planning on challenging the Gods – even if I don't quite believe in them the way that you do. It was a hypothetical question. I'm tired and frustrated and it's making me a bit grumpy, that's all."

"Things did not go well with the Oracle then," Pythagoras stated.

"About as well as can be expected I suppose," Jason answered. "I know she's trying to help me – to teach me – but it doesn't help that I don't really understand what she's getting at. I think I understood about one word in three. It makes me feel like I'm completely stupid; that I'm being really dense because I just can't figure out what she means or what she wants me to do."

"I suspect it is simply that the subject is new," Pythagoras replied sympathetically. "I do not know of anyone who can learn all there is to know about something the first time they receive instruction. Give it time. I have no doubt you will master her lessons sooner or later."

Jason grunted and flopped onto his back on the sand, staring up at the sky morosely.

"You will get sand in your hair," Pythagoras pointed out, his practicality coming to the fore.

"Won't be the first time," Jason responded.

He watched the clouds drifting by lazily, mind wandering as he looked for patterns in them. He allowed the tranquillity of his surroundings to seep into him, finally relaxing him; the sound of the waves gently lapping at the shore washing away all conscious thought as his eyes drifted across the clouds overhead.

Pythagoras watched him affectionately for a moment, before turning back to his sketching with some satisfaction. He had been right in thinking that Jason needed to get away from the royal estate for a bit; the tension he had observed in his friend was easing with every passing moment.

Suddenly Jason sat up, eyes wide and blinking as his expression changed into one of startled realisation.

"What?" asked Pythagoras. "What is it?"

"I think I've just worked out something she was getting at," Jason said slowly. "She kept telling me that I needed to 'remove all distractions' and 'focus my inner eye'." He rolled his eyes as he said it. "I think what she meant was that I needed to relax and stop thinking about things. She said that learning to let go was the first step to learning control." He hesitated for a moment. "She also seems to think that I probably had this _gift_ as a kid but that my Dad somehow taught me to block it out; to suppress it. She said that I have to 'unlearn the bad habits of a lifetime' before I can learn to control the visions."

Pythagoras frowned lightly, his fertile mind mulling the problem (as he saw it) over.

"Perhaps…" he began, "that is… I think that you may find that you need find your own way to interpret the Oracle's lessons. I have no doubt that there is much that she can teach you… but perhaps, rather than being overly hard upon yourself for not understanding her meaning straight away, you should take time to quietly think over all she has said and see if understanding comes later. I know that our lives are more restricted here than they used to be when we were in our own home in Atlantis and that there are calls on all our time that there did not used to be… and that this means that you have little opportunity to go for the sorts of long walks that you used to… but perhaps you might still find the time to escape from the house occasionally – even if it is only to come here to the beach for a short time. I would be more than willing to accompany you… if you would like the company at any time that is."

"You may be right," Jason acknowledged, "and getting away now and then sounds good. I miss being able to go off for walks to clear my head. I haven't really had time in the past few weeks but I think maybe I need to make time… and, yeah, I would appreciate the company from time to time." He paused and looked back out to sea for a long moment. "Would you mind if we changed the subject now though?" he asked. "Apparently there's going to be another formal dinner tonight and I'd sort of like to try to relax a bit before it; to not have to think about the Oracle or any of that for a while."

"Of course," Pythagoras replied.

He looked curiously at Jason.

"Who was that with the Princess?" he asked.

Jason grimaced.

"Prince Chalcon of Tanagra," he replied. "Ariadne is betrothed to him."

"Ah," Pythagoras replied tactfully, not completely sure what else he should say; uncertain whether Jason would need comforting.

He was sure that his friend would not take meeting the man who Ariadne was promised to particularly well and couldn't imagine what the Princess was thinking about introducing them in this way.

"I would not have expected her to introduce the two of you in that way," he added.

"Why not?" Jason said flatly. "We had to meet sometime and that was as good a way as any… especially since he will be at this feast tonight anyway." He paused. "Actually, I don't think Ariadne intended us to meet like that," he admitted. "We just happened to be coming back at the same time and she stopped to say hello… and then _he_ joined us." He glanced across at Pythagoras. "I didn't realise you'd seen us talking."

The blonde mathematician shrugged.

"I was waiting for you to come back," he admitted. "I had been waiting by the door to your chamber but I was beginning to get funny looks from the servants… so I thought I would wait in the courtyard instead. I arrived at the entrance in time to see the Princess and her companion taking their leave of you." He looked appraisingly at Jason. "It cannot have been an easy meeting," he observed.

"It was alright," Jason replied. "It was fine."

Pythagoras hid a wince at his use of the word 'fine' again.

"Are you sure?" he asked carefully.

"Yes," Jason snapped.

He caught the slightly hurt look that Pythagoras directed at him and sighed softly. He hadn't really meant to snap at his friend.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I didn't mean to bite. It really was alright. He seems… nice and I hope she'll be happy."

"Jason…"

"It's alright, Pythagoras. I've accepted that she's going to marry him. I told her that I will always be there for her. No matter what."

Pythagoras looked down at the sand and then back out to sea.

"It will not be easy," he said softly. "No-one would blame you for walking away. No-one would think ill of you."

"I would blame me," Jason retorted. "I gave Ariadne my word and I will not break it." He sighed and watched the waves gently breaking against the shoreline. "She introduced me as a kinsman of her family," he admitted softly. "Prince Chalcon… I don't think he had any idea that… well it doesn't matter what feelings Ariadne or I have does it? She's betrothed to him."

"Yes, she is," Pythagoras replied gently. "And with the engysis made there can be no going back without dishonour falling on the King." He sighed. "This is not like it was with Heptarian," he went on. "There is no contest you can win to alter the course of events."

"No," Jason agreed. "It isn't like it was with Heptarian… but then, Prince Chalcon doesn't seem to be the same sort of person as Heptarian anyway."

"What's he like?" the young genius asked.

He was naturally a little curious but that wasn't why he was asking – experience had taught him that Jason fared better if he could be persuaded to open up; if he wasn't left to brood.

"Like I said, he seems nice," Jason answered, hooking his arms around his knees. "He was friendly and charming. I suspect he would be very good socially; good at small talk… Everything a good prince should be"

The last was said a little more bitterly.

"Jason…"

"It's alright," Jason went on. "It doesn't matter. It's just… I don't think I could ever manage to… well… I just don't think I would ever make that sort of good impression." He sighed. "The more formal dinners and social gatherings I go to, the more I realise why I've always avoided parties. I'm no good at small talk and I'm always afraid that I'm going to say or do something and terminally offend someone important without actually meaning to; without realising what I've done. I'm never going to manage to be what Pasiphae wants me to be no matter how hard I try. I'm just not cut out to be a proper prince."

Pythagoras mirrored his posture.

"I think you sell yourself short," he said seriously. "It is a fault of yours that I have noticed before – that you undervalue yourself; think less of yourself than others do of you." He smiled at Jason fondly. "Not that I expect to convince you of this… I've never managed it before… But think about it, if you were so likely to give a bad impression, would the King or Queen risk humiliation by repeatedly insisting on your presence at formal occasions? I think not. While they might have done so once, they would not be likely to repeat such a mistake. The fact that they keep expecting you to attend is in itself a sign that _they_ do not find you wanting."

Jason snorted softly, but the corners of his mouth quirked up into a slight smile at the same time.

"Pasiphae certainly seems keen for me to be there," he acknowledged.

He paused for a moment, looking out to sea and biting his lip. He wasn't entirely sure how his friend would react to what he was about to say, although he did remind himself that it was Pythagoras he was talking to – the less volatile and more understanding of his two friends – and not Hercules… who was almost certain to object.

"I've got something to tell you actually," he said softly, "and I don't quite know… I'm not sure you're going to like what I'm going to say – and I _know_ Hercules won't."

"Why?" Pythagoras asked insistently. "Jason what have you done?"

"Nothing," Jason replied defensively. "At least… nothing yet – and it's not permanent anyway… I can still stop it if I want…"

Pythagoras turned to face his friend, expression very serious now and attention fully focussed on Jason.

"You are babbling," he pointed out. "It is something that Hercules accuses me of all too frequently when there is something that I am nervous of saying. So tell me – what is it?"

Jason swallowed hard.

"You know that my mother wants me to stay with them permanently?" he asked. "That she wants me to take what she keeps referring to as 'my rightful place'?"

"She has hardly made a secret of it," Pythagoras answered.

"The thing is… I'm not ready to make any permanent decisions yet and I've told her that," Jason went on. "She's been pretty good about not pushing me actually; about not forcing me into anything… but I know she wants me to learn more about what taking the place she wants me to would entail – and I can't do that if I don't try. That's partly what the lessons she wants you to do with me are about I think; teaching me about her world and the life she wants me to be part of."

"I suspect you are right," Pythagoras replied. "But you still haven't told me what it is that you think Hercules and I won't like."

Jason sighed.

"When we get back to Atlantis, I won't be coming home with you guys," he admitted softly. "Not at first anyway. I want to… when I think of home it's of you guys and our house." He paused for a moment. "But I don't think it would be fair of me to reject everything Pasiphae and the King are offering without considering it seriously… and I don't think I can do that without knowing a bit more about their everyday lives when there's not a siege and we're not at war. I spoke to Pasiphae yesterday and I told her that I think I'd like to stay with them at the Palace for a while once we are back in Atlantis. I don't think I'll really be able to make a decision about the future unless I do and if I don't…"

"You will always wonder what would have happened if you had given them a chance," Pythagoras finished for him. "I think you are right. I think that you _do_ have to do this. They are your family after all."

"So are you and Hercules," Jason asserted firmly. "I didn't have a family until I met you guys; I didn't have a home. I'm not just going to turn my back on you."

"I never thought you would," Pythagoras assured him. "And we will still be there. If you decide in the end that you do not wish to remain at the Palace, your bed will still be there in our house. It will remain your home for as long as you want it to… but this is a course you have to take so that you do not look back and regret what might have been."

Jason looked at him seriously.

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?" Pythagoras asked.

"For being so understanding. For making it easier for me." Jason paused. "I'm still not sure Hercules will take it well though," he added. "I don't want him to think that I'm abandoning you guys."

Pythagoras sighed.

"Hercules may not react well at first," he acknowledged. "I suspect he will worry… not that he will ever admit it of course."

"Of course not," Jason agreed with a slight grin.

Pythagoras couldn't help returning that faint smile with one of his own; Hercules' constant refusal to admit that he worried about either of his friends had become something of a running joke between the two of them.

"If he does explode," he said carefully, not wanting to offend Jason, "I would suggest trying not to antagonise him further… I know you would not try to," he added, holding up one hand to forestall his friend's objection, "but Hercules' temper is not always easy to navigate and you sometimes dig your heels in at the most inconvenient moments."

"So what are you saying?" Jason asked.

"I am saying that no matter what Hercules says – or shouts – the best course would be to remain calm and to try to placate him," Pythagoras advised. "I know that is not always easy but the best thing would be simply to weather the storm as best you can; to allow him to lose his temper and calm down of his own accord. I am speaking from experience. I have known Hercules for a lot longer than you have after all. In the end Hercules will come around as he always does. We will both be there to help if you should need it, I am sure of it. I will support you… no matter where you decide your future lies in the end."

"You always have," Jason replied. "You have always been the kindest man I have ever met." He put a hand on Pythagoras' arm. "You're a good friend, Pythagoras."

The young genius looked down at the sand, faintly embarrassed by his friend's declaration; he certainly didn't think he was all that special after all.

"I try," he muttered. "So, Prince Chalcon seemed nice?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah," Jason replied. "He… erm… he said he would like to be friends."

"He wants to be friends?" Pythagoras asked, a little startled. "But you have only just met…"

"I know," Jason answered, "but he seemed pretty genuine about it… I got the feeling he's a bit lonely. He admitted that he doesn't have many friends and that none of them are here in Pagenia so I think he was just looking for a bit of company."

"How do you feel about that?"

Jason sighed and looked out to sea again.

"I don't know," he acknowledged pensively. "I have every reason in the world to dislike him; I don't _want_ to like him and be his friend…"

"No-one could blame you for feeling like that under the circumstances," Pythagoras replied.

"Maybe," Jason responded, "but there's just one problem."

"What's that?"

"I think I _do_ like him," Jason admitted. "He seems like a really nice guy and what his father's done isn't _his_ fault. Pasiphae basically told me yesterday that Prince Chalcon doesn't seem to be happy about the engagement but that he's trying to make the best of it – just like the rest of us. You'll get to judge him for yourself soon enough though – he wants to go hunting or to spar or something… he basically left it up to me to decide – and you know I'm not going to go anywhere without you guys… as long as you want to come, that is."

"Don't be ridiculous," Pythagoras replied. "Of course I will come… and I suspect that wild horses would not be able to drag Hercules away – especially if there is a chance to show off his hunting prowess… although I do have to ask, will King Agrias be there? Or indeed any of the other kings? Because I do not think they would take too kindly to going on a hunting expedition with Hercules or I."

"Why?" Jason asked.

Pythagoras smiled widely. Jason's inability to see class distinction was in some ways one of his more endearing traits – even if it had caused a great deal of trouble for him and his friends in the past; his somewhat unique view of life was refreshing if nothing else.

"Because we are peasants," the mathematician gently pointed out. "We are not members of the nobility."

Jason turned to look at his friend with a frown.

"You're worth more than them put together," he growled.

"It does not alter the fact that they are rich and powerful," Pythagoras murmured. "Something which I fear neither Hercules nor I will ever be… and I would not wish to be. I would like to be a little more comfortably off than we generally are. I would like to know that we always have enough to eat and to be able to spend my time at study rather than working at one of Hercules' guarding jobs – which never seem to end well – and yet I find that in general I am satisfied with my life. All this is beside the point, however. My original question stands. If you were to go hunting with Prince Chalcon, will King Agrias or any of the other kings be there?"

"I don't think so," Jason answered. "I get the feeling Prince Chalcon wants to get away from his father for a bit and this will give him an excuse."

He dropped back to lie on the sand again, head pillowed on his arms, watching the clouds go by idly as the winter sun shone down warmly.

"We're not in any rush to get back, are we?" he asked.

"Not as far as I'm concerned," Pythagoras replied. "Hercules has gone beetle racing… don't ask," he added as Jason turned his head to squint at him. "I have no reason to hurry back if you do not."

"Nah," Jason murmured. "There's the formal dinner tonight but I don't have anywhere to be until then."

"Then we can stay as long as we like," Pythagoras said.

"Good," Jason responded.

He turned back to look at the sky, the last of the tension draining out of him. Beside him, Pythagoras lay back and looked up at the clouds himself.

"Are you looking for pictures in the clouds again?" the young genius asked, remembering Jason doing it once before and smiling at the memory.

"When I was a little boy my Dad's friend Mac used to come and take me out whenever he was back in town," Jason told him quietly. "More often than not we'd end up at the beach. Most of the time I didn't want to go back when it was time to leave… I mean, it was different when I was living with Chloe but the rest of the time… Anyway, I used to try to put off leaving for as long as possible; used to lie on the sand and look up at the clouds and make up stories in my head; pretend that I was somebody's long lost son and they were out there somewhere looking for me, that sort of thing. But most of the time, I'd just look at the clouds and daydream; look to see what pictures I could see there and make up things that might happen if I saw something specific… Like maybe, if I saw a horse or something then someone would be coming to rescue me from the children's home, that sort of thing." He smiled softly up at the sky. "Sometimes I like to just look up at the sky and remember, you know? To look for the things that I looked for back then and to think about just how far I've come since then."

"It is an innocent enough pastime in a troubled world," Pythagoras agreed. He glanced at his friend. "Perhaps I will join you in it," he added with a grin.

"As long as you don't keep telling me you've seen triangles this time," Jason replied, chuckling.

He stretched lazily and returned to his quiet contemplation of the clouds once more.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N Well I wasn't expecting to manage to publish a second chapter this month given how slowly I've been writing lately. Since it's written ahead of schedule though, I thought I'd post it now :-)

Now, I'm going to admit to messing about a bit with the geography of Ancient Greece here. There are places that I've mentioned as being near to Atlantis that are (or were) actually islands, but then again the series does that too (most notably with Aegina, which they were travelling to overland in _A Marriage of True Minds_ but which was an island in reality). Plus, Plato's Atlantis was described as an island that sank into the sea but our Atlantis doesn't seem to be an island in its own right (although I think that it might be on a peninsula at the end of the mainland). So what I'm saying, I guess, is that I tend to look at it that the geography of that area will be changed if Atlantis is destroyed - at least that's my theory and I'm sticking to it ;-)

Oh, and one more thing, I am admitting right now that I stole the wording of the "watch him like a bat" bit straight from the episode _The Day of the Dead_ but I love that conversation - it's classic Hercules and Pythagoras and was far too funny not to use somewhere :-)

Anyway, on with the chapter. Please let me know if you enjoy it - I _think_ there are still people reading ;-)

* * *

Minos stood in front of the top table on the hastily constructed raised dais at the end of the largest room that the house had to offer; converted to a dining room large enough to accommodate the King and thirty or so guests. His allies and their advisors sat at the tables in front of him, interspersed with local nobles and dignitaries and those army officers, like Dion, who were fit for polite society. It was unfortunate that Agrias had had to be seated at the top table at Minos' left hand, with his son alongside him, but in view of the betrothal between Ariadne and Chalcon it was necessary.

Minos surveyed the guests before him and raised the goblet in his hands in front of him.

"Great Poseidon, protector of Atlantis, I make you this offering in thanks for your continued protection and for your blessings and help for our venture to come," he intoned formally. "Ku-tuu Poseidion. Hey arechay."

He poured out the contents of the cup on the floor in front of him, before handing the vessel off to a waiting serving girl.

"And now, my friends, enjoy," he added, spreading his arms expansively, before turning back to take his place at the centre of the top table, Pasiphae on his right hand, as the assorted guests began to help themselves from the array of dishes before them, able assisted by silent servants.

At the far end of the table, Jason picked idly at the cold chicken on his plate and listened to the conversation going on around him. Down at the other end of the table, Prince Chalcon, seated near to his father, raised his cup in friendly salute. Jason nodded back and returned to listening to the conversations. Nearby (at what Jason supposed could be dubbed the 'Atlantian' end of the table), Pasiphae turned away from the light and seemingly friendly conversation she was having with her stepdaughter (a conversation that surprisingly seemed to lack all the old animosity that lingered between the two) to deliver a barbed compliment to King Agrias; her wit biting but delivered in such a way that it could not be seen as an insult. After a moment, Ariadne joined in with her own snarky comments, interjected at appropriate moments in the conversation.

Jason hid a grin. Whilst he generally still didn't enjoy this sort of formal occasion, listening to both his mother's and Ariadne's sharp wit employed against the ghastly Agrias was endlessly amusing. In all honesty, this was his favourite bit of the evening; the food was excellent and the conversation could ebb and flow around him as he sat back and watched without being expected to actively engage in it.

Gradually though, he began to feel as though there were someone watching him. He shifted as unobtrusively as possible and glanced about the room apparently casually, taking a sip of wine as he did.

At the very end of a table, tucked over in the corner of the room that was furthest away from Jason, a regal looking old woman was sitting and watching him openly, her food all but ignored on her plate in front of her. As Jason looked at her, she looked away hurriedly, taking a bite of food and turning to engage her nearest neighbour in hurried conversation.

Jason started. It was the lady he had met on the first night in Pagenia when he had stumbled into her private room by mistake. This was the first time he had seen her since then (was certainly the first time she had joined them for a meal) and with everything that had happened he had all but forgotten the encounter; the fact that someone else lived on this estate had completely slipped his mind.

Who was she? What she had said when he had first entered her chamber (when she had believed herself to be speaking to Alexarchos) indicated that she was living here at Minos' instruction and was probably nobly born, but beyond that Jason knew nothing about her… and yet somehow he felt like he should know her; there was something familiar in her face – her expression; something he felt he should recognise.

He studied her a little more thoughtfully, although he would still seem to be simply glancing around the room to the casual observer.

The lady was elegantly dressed in Atlantian blue – her dress not quite as elaborate perhaps as those usually worn by Pasiphae or Ariadne, but still beautifully made and embroidered. Definitely the dress of a highly ranking noblewoman. Once again, her hair was piled up in an elaborate hairstyle, silver curls pinned carefully and bound about with ribbons and strings of delicate pearls. Her throat was framed by a delicate necklace, although she wore no other jewellery.

Jason hid a frown. Everything was telling him that this was a woman of importance, yet if that was the case surely she would have attended one of these formal dinners before?

The old lady kept casting surreptitious glances in his direction every time she thought he wasn't looking. It was almost funny, Jason thought, how they were both doing the same thing: trying to get a good look at one another without letting anyone else know that's what they were doing.

Every so often their eyes would inadvertently meet. Whenever that happened, the old lady would flinch slightly and hurriedly look away. Jason's eyes narrowed slightly. Just why was she so interested in him?

He cast his eyes casually around the room once more. As he turned in her direction he couldn't fail to notice Pasiphae watching him with one eyebrow pointedly raised. She allowed her eyes to roam across the room in the direction he had been looking without changing expression. As she spotted the old lady, the Queen's look became what might best be described as unreadable. She turned back to her dinner and deliberately drew Jason into the conversation.

Jason allowed himself to be distracted by his mother but inside his mind was racing. Who was the old lady and why had she been looking at him so intently? There was no way he could find out while they were at the supper table short of asking Pasiphae – and from her deliberate attempt to steer his gaze away from the other woman, he somehow felt his mother would be less than forthcoming. Distractedly, he took another mouthful of food and swallowed slowly. Perhaps he couldn't find out who the woman was while they were sitting here but she was almost bound to be at the reception afterwards, wasn't she? And even if she wasn't, there was bound to be someone there who knew who she was. He hid a smile. Once the meal was over he would start asking around and try to work out why the woman seemed so familiar to him.

* * *

"He what?"

Pythagoras sighed as he looked at his old friend. Hercules looked aghast and about to explode although the young genius didn't quite know why. Or perhaps he should say that he didn't know why _this time_ , he thought cynically. Hercules' volatile temper was something that he had grown to know too well over the years.

"Jason told me that Prince Chalcon wishes to go hunting with him… or perhaps to spar," he repeated patiently.

He tore another lump of bread off the chunk on the table and used it to mop the juices out of his bowl. While the supper provided for him and Hercules might not be quite as lavish as the spread that had been laid out for the feast tonight, the food was still excellent – of far higher quality than Pythagoras had ever expected to eat prior to going to the Palace with Jason. Hercules seemed to particularly enjoy every mealtime (although he always had, Pythagoras thought uncharitably) and the young mathematician worried a little about how the big man would feel when they inevitably had to return to their ordinary lives.

"Why in the name of the Gods would he want to do that?" Hercules demanded, almost aggressively pouring himself another cup of wine and draining it quickly, bringing the cup back down onto the table with a sharp bang.

"Jason said that he seemed to want to be friends," Pythagoras replied. "He got the feeling Prince Chalcon was a bit lonely; that he didn't have any friends with him here and wanted to get away from his father for a while."

Hercules swore loudly and swept his cup off the table with one blow. The pottery shattered as it hit the floor; a startlingly loud sound in the quiet room. The burly wrestler pushed himself up from the table, stalking over to the doorway that opened onto the small balcony adjoining the room. He grasped the edges of the doorway with an iron hard grip dropping his head down, breathing hard and glowering out into the still night.

Pythagoras stared at him in surprise.

"Was that _really_ necessary?" he asked mildly, looking at the broken shards of the cup on the floor.

"Yes!" Hercules growled.

"What's wrong with you?" Pythagoras asked.

"How can he be so stupid?" Hercules demanded.

"Who?"

" _Jason_ ," Hercules ground out.

Pythagoras looked at his old friend's back with mild exasperation. He slipped from his chair and began clearing up the broken remains of the pottery.

"Hercules, you are not making a great deal of sense," he murmured.

Hercules pushed himself off from the doorframe with an annoyed grunt and began pacing angrily around the room.

"I just don't understand how a grown man can be so damned naïve," he exclaimed.

"What are you talking about?" Pythagoras asked exasperatedly.

Hercules stopped and turned to look at the mathematician.

"You don't see it either, do you?" he said incredulously. "You're just as naïve as he is." He shook his head in frustration. "Two of you," he muttered. "One is bad enough but how do I deal with two of you?"

"Hercules!" Pythagoras exclaimed, his exasperation becoming ever more evident. " _What_ are you talking about?"

"Prince Chalcon," Hercules growled.

He returned Pythagoras' confused frown with a glower of his own.

"Jason is the son of Pasiphae, yes?" he went on.

"Yes Hercules, we all know that," Pythagoras replied.

"So, he is a possible heir to the throne," Hercules growled, " _and_ the current heir to the throne, Ariadne, already has feelings for him. Don't you see what that means? Whether he means to be or not, Jason is a threat to King Agrias' plans… and Prince Chalcon is his son; betrothed to Ariadne and lined up to take the throne of Atlantis in the future."

"But Prince Chalcon cannot know any of that," Pythagoras objected. "Minos has been very carefully to hide who Jason is from everyone and I don't think anyone would have told Prince Chalcon or Ariadne and Jason's feelings for one another."

"Ah, but we don't know that, do we?" Hercules replied. "What if he's found out? What if he knows Jason is a threat? What if he's got all this planned: make friends with Jason, get him on his own out in the woods on a 'hunting' trip and then bang… a knife in the back."

"Jason said that Prince Chalcon seemed nice," Pythagoras protested, moving back to the table and sitting down again.

Hercules snorted. At Pythagoras' pointed look he walked over and dropped onto the bench opposite the young man with an audible thud.

"Jason thinks everyone is as honourable as he is," he pointed out seriously, his voice lowered now; no longer shouting. "He has faith in people. He sees the best in everyone. It's his faith that makes him who he is… but it makes him vulnerable too."

Pythagoras watched the worry flickering across his old friends face and sighed. He was suddenly incredibly glad that he hadn't mentioned Jason's decision to stay at the Palace for a time once they had got back to Atlantis (if everything went the way they hoped and Anaxandros was driven from the city of course) if this was the way Hercules was reacting to a proposed hunting trip. That was an explosion for another day.

"You are right," the young genius murmured. "Jason _does_ try to see the best in people… apart from Heptarian of course… but in this case we have no reason to believe he is not correct. Prince Chalcon has done nothing suspicious. We haven't even met him ourselves… although we soon will: Jason asked me if we'd go with him when they go hunting or go to the training grounds to spar. Even if the Prince does have less than honourable intentions, we will be there to prevent anything from happening."

Hercules grunted.

"Maybe you're right," he conceded, "but I'm still not happy about this."

"Then what do you suggest?" Pythagoras asked sharply. "Do you think that Jason should offend the son of the man who the King is relying on for support by refusing his request? Prince Chalcon is rich and powerful and under the circumstances I don't think we should risk insulting him. He is betrothed to Ariadne and as far as anyone outside those of us who escaped Atlantis together know Jason is no more than a distant kinsman to the royal family. I do not think that the King could dare support Jason if Prince Chalcon did take offence without betraying who he really is… and that would put him in real danger."

"How?" Hercules demanded.

"Think about it, Hercules," Pythagoras said. "Agrias of Tanagra believes that by marrying his youngest son to Minos' daughter – the current heir to Atlantis – he will gain control of the kingdom once Minos is dead; that he will be able to rule through his son. That has been his ambition ever since he arrived in Pagenia. How do you think he would react if he were to learn that there is another possible contender for the throne? A _male_ heir with at least as much claim to Atlantis as Ariadne – perhaps an even greater claim given the history and his gender. And what do you think Jason's life expectancy would be at that point?"

"Pasiphae would never allow that," Hercules argued.

"No," Pythagoras agreed, "and it could start an even greater war than the one we are already in." He sighed. "It would be better for everyone at this moment in time, if King Agrias does not learn who Jason is."

"Yeah," Hercules said.

"So Jason _must_ agree to the Prince's wishes," Pythagoras went on. "Surely you can see that?"

"I suppose so," Hercules muttered grudgingly. "But I still don't like it. We'll have to watch him like a bat!"

Pythagoras' lips twitched in amusement.

"Bats are blind," he pointed out.

"We'll have to watch him like something with really good eyesight," Hercules retorted.

Pythagoras thought about it for a second.

"A hawk," he said. "We will watch him like a hawk."

* * *

There were enough people in the reception area after supper – enough visiting royalty – that Jason had been able to slip gratefully into the background. He had positioned himself in one of the more shadowed corners of the room and was watching the scene before him with quiet amusement. The more sycophantic members of the Pagenian nobility were clustered around the various kings like bees around a honeypot; all vying with one another for attention. Watching their games of one-upmanship was definitely funny.

He took a drink handed to him by a passing servant and sipped at it slowly. People watching could be an entertaining pastime – especially where the natural born toadies that seemed to inhabit the upper echelons of Atlantian society were concerned. As his eyes roamed the room, he caught sight of the old lady he had seen at dinner and he paused, watching her curiously with his head tilted slightly to the side.

The old lady was standing on the far side of the chamber in one of the quieter areas of the room. There were still a small group of the local nobility around her though, apparently fawning over her. As Jason watched, the lady inclined her head gracefully and replied to one of the people around her with gentle smile – although he couldn't help noticing the little eye roll she gave when she thought no-one was looking. He had been right then. She _was_ a woman of some importance from the way those around her were acting.

She glanced around the room and her eyes briefly met Jason's before looking away quickly. Jason once again felt a little frisson of recognition; the feeling that he _ought_ to know who this woman was but didn't. He frowned. Who was she? And why did she seem so familiar?

"You look worried."

Ariadne's soft voice startled him. He hadn't seen or heard her approach.

"No," Jason replied distractedly. "No, I'm not worried. Just a bit curious about something."

"About what?" Ariadne asked, moving to stand next to him.

"Do you know who the lady in the blue dress is over there?" Jason asked, nodding in the direction of the old woman.

Ariadne glanced in the direction he was looking. Years of practice had taught her not to let her eyes linger for too long or to make it too obvious when she was looking at someone; that to be seen to be staring would be thought of as rude and that as a Princess she could not afford that.

"No," she answered. "She is not someone who has been invited to one of these gatherings before. Why?"

"Do you remember the first night we arrived here I got lost looking for the dining room?"

"Of course," Ariadne replied. "I thought Father was going to be cross – he cannot stand lateness – but when you explained, it was fine."

"Yeah," Jason agreed. "Anyhow, do you also remember me telling you that I'd met an older lady in one of the rooms here? She said it was her private gyna… something-or-other."

"Gynaikonitis," Ariadne confirmed. "Yes, you did. I had forgotten about that until now – although I am surprised none of us have seen her since then or stumbled across the chambers."

"It was further down and around the corner from where my room is," Jason replied. "On a back corridor, away from any of the rooms we have been using. I've avoided it since that first time and I don't think anyone else would have had any reason to have gone that way." He paused. "Anyway, the woman over there in the blue dress is the old lady I met that first night."

Ariadne turned her head to glance at the lady again.

"She is clearly someone of consequence," she observed. "I must confess I am a little surprised that Father or Pasiphae has not introduced her… especially since she must live in this house."

"Hmm," Jason murmured. "I can't help feeling like I should recognise her. I mean, I know I met her briefly but it's more than that… It feels like I should know who she is."

He shook himself.

"Sorry," he apologised. "I'm probably letting my imagination run away with me. It's just that when we were eating I kept catching her watching me… only she'd look away as soon as I looked."

"That is odd," Ariadne agreed. She put her hand on Jason's arm lightly. "We will try to find out who she is. If we both make enquiries then someone is bound to tell one of us."

"It's probably not important," Jason protested quietly.

"Nonsense," Ariadne replied. "It will make the evening more entertaining."

"What are you two conspiring about?"

It was almost comical the way both Jason and Ariadne jumped at Chalcon's faintly amused question.

"We are not conspiring about anything," Ariadne replied.

She quickly explained their conversation to Chalcon. The young man's blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he also glanced at the old lady. Then he smiled brightly at his two companions.

"A lady of good birth who lives in this house and yet has not been made known to those who are staying here? That is a puzzle indeed," he murmured. "But I am certain that between the three of us we are bound to get to the bottom of the matter and discover her identity."

"I'm sure it isn't really important," Jason objected. "I doubt it's worth you wasting your time on… either of you."

"Nonsense," Chalcon replied, clapping him on the shoulder in a friendly manner. "Ariadne is correct… Anything that makes one of these occasions less dull is to be relished and at least if I appear to be mingling properly and deep in conversation with others my father and his tedious advisors will leave me alone. You did promise to save me from the boredom of having to deal with them after all my friend."

"Yes, I did," Jason agreed with a grin of his own.

"And I, in turn, promised to save _you_ from the attentions of some of the matrons here tonight," Chalcon added, looking pointedly across the room.

Jason followed his look to see the wife of one of the Pagenian noblemen heading their way with a determined expression. It was the same ghastly, overdressed and over-made-up woman who had almost aggressively attempted to flirt with him the first time the King had held one of these dinners. She still hadn't managed to find a big enough dress Jason noticed almost absently, even as he tried to think of a way that he could avoid her attentions without causing offence.

"I think I would like to see the vase you were telling me about," Chalcon said loudly (loud enough for the woman to hear anyway). "Perhaps you would be so good as to show me, my friend?"

Jason looked confused for a moment before realising what the Tanagran Prince was up to as he winked and grinned. Understanding dawned on Jason's face followed quickly by a grin of his own.

"Of course," he replied.

"Shall we go then?" Chalcon asked. He turned to Ariadne. "You will excuse us?"

"Naturally," Ariadne answered, her dark eyes twinkling. She leant in towards her companions slightly, keeping her voice quiet enough that it would not travel beyond the three of them. "I will go and ask to be introduced to our mysterious lady while you two mingle and try to find out who she is from the other guests."

The two young men left the Princess and made their way to the opposite side of the room, past the now glowering noblewoman; her disappointment plainly showing on her face.

"Is it just me or is her dress a little…" Chalcon murmured once they were past.

"Tight?" Jason finished for him.

Chalcon grinned.

"Yes," he replied. "I imagine her maid must have a hell of a job getting her into it. Do you think she needs special equipment to help her?"

Jason snorted a startled laugh.

"Maybe," he said. "Thank you, by the way. I wasn't entirely sure how I was going to get out of talking to her when she started to head our way and once was more than enough."

"Merely keeping my end of the bargain." Chalcon shrugged Jason's thanks off. "You have met her before then?"

"Oh yes," Jason replied. "That was the town official's wife that Ariadne was talking about earlier."

"Ah," Chalcon murmured. "Then I fully understand your dismay earlier at the thought that she might be present this evening. I cannot think that her company would be enticing from what I observed of her conversation before I joined you and Ariadne." He looked around, noting that Ariadne had already begun to make her way over to the group surrounding the old lady. "Come on," he said. "Let us do as Ariadne suggested and mingle."

* * *

Pasiphae had stepped out of the reception chamber into the corridor outside to get some air. The evening was going well so far. She would have to admit that she had been surprised to see her son deep in what appeared to be friendly conversation with Prince Chalcon on the opposite side of the room. It was something that she would not have anticipated seeing given the circumstances. Perhaps, though, she had underestimated Jason's ability to put his own feelings to one side in favour of doing his duty? The boy did seem devoted to doing what was best for Atlantis after all.

"Pasiphae."

The Queen turned at the softly spoken call, to face her former mother-in-law.

"Tyro," she acknowledged smoothly but with no real pleasure.

"I just wanted to say thank you for this evening." The former Queen's voice was gentle and melodious – very different from the bitter, expressionless tone she had used when she had first spoken to Pasiphae in the garden.

"I trust it has met with your approval," Pasiphae replied.

"It has been… more than I could have dreamed of," Tyro answered. "To be in the same room as the boy after so many years of believing him to be lost forever… it is an incredible feeling."

"It is indeed," Pasiphae agreed softly. Then her eyes and her tone hardened. "I also trust you have kept to our agreement," she said imperiously.

"I have," the older lady confirmed. "I have made sure that Jason has not learned my name. In fact, I have not spoken with him at all."

Pasiphae looked at her for a long moment.

"Thank you," she said.

"You impressed upon me that it would be in Jason's best interests," Tyro answered. "I would not wish to do anything to harm the boy… especially before I have had the chance to get to know him properly."

"It will not be forever," Pasiphae told her. "I give you my word. As soon as this is all over and we have regained the city, I promise that I will tell Jason who you are and ensure that you have the time and space to meet one another properly. For now, it is simply that I do not wish Jason to become distracted. I have learned enough about my son's character to know that he will be at the forefront of any action, whether I wish it or no… but I will do everything in my power to keep him as safe as I can and this is part of that."

"I understand," Tyro murmured, moving over to a window along the one side of the corridor that over looked the courtyard below and breathed in the fresh night air. "It has been an interesting evening all round," she went on. "I have secluded myself in this house for so long that I had almost forgotten what this sort of occasion was like. I suppose that it is fortunate, under the circumstances, that I have had little to do with the town or my neighbours, so there will be few who know my name or who I once was. That has made it easier to keep my identity from my grandson." She gave a wry smile, still looking out across the courtyard. "I have to admit that Minos daughter seems most persistent in discovering who I am," she added. "She has done everything barring asking me outright."

Pasiphae frowned as she came to join her former mother-in-law at the window.

"Ariadne?" she asked sharply.

"Yes," Tyro answered. "She seems like a nice enough young woman but very inquisitive."

"I will ensure that she is distracted," Pasiphae responded.

She hesitated for a moment, considering the wisdom of her next words to Tyro; especially because, on this subject at least, Minos was still in the dark.

"It may be more difficult to keep Jason in the dark than you anticipate," she said at length. "But before I say any more I will have your word that you will never tell another living soul what I am about to tell you."

Tyro raised a sceptical eyebrow and turned to look at Pasiphae.

"Intrigue may be a part of your life but it is hardly a part of mine," she retorted coldly. "I will not be party to any of your plots and machinations."

"There is no plot or intrigue here," Pasiphae snapped back. "I am simply asking that our private conversation remain just that. I would not wish to hear it repeated as servant's tittle-tattle."

"I am not in the habit of discussing my private business with the servants," Tyro protested stiffly.

"Really! Then who do you discuss it with?" Pasiphae countered. "You said yourself that you had secluded yourself almost from the time you arrived here. Tell me, who is left for you to talk to? Who, aside from the King and I, even remember that you still exist?" She pulled herself together with some effort. "Arguing over this matter will do neither of us any good," she said bluntly. "What I am about to tell you affects Jason but is known to no more than a handful of people. Even Minos has no knowledge of this… and for the moment I would have it remain that way. Now, do I have your word that you will keep this secret or not?"

"Very well," the older lady replied. "If it is so very important, you have my word of honour that I will not speak of what you are about to tell me again."

Pasiphae sighed and looked out at the moonlit courtyard for a long moment; allowing the tranquillity of the scene to soothe her.

"There is a reason I say you may have difficulty preventing Jason from learning your identity, especially if you should speak with him, is that he has the gift of foresight," she said softly. "He sees both the present… and the past." She gave Tyro a significant look. "I am sure you can appreciate how this might cause problems at this present moment… especially since Jason has not yet learned to control his visions in any way. In fact, he has only just admitted that he has them – even to himself."

"Surely, if Jason is likely to learn who I am despite our best efforts, then there is no point in keeping it a secret from him?"

"If I believed it to be an absolute certainty that his gift would cause him to learn the truth of your relationship with him, I would not have hesitated to prevent you from seeing him," Pasiphae answered. "With the fate of all Atlantis at stake, I cannot afford Jason to become distracted by a domestic matter. I will not risk his heart and mind being divided at a time when he needs to focus. He is already unsettled by all that has gone on in the past few weeks; by all that is continuing to happen around him. I have had to accept that Jason _will_ be at the forefront of any battle that is to come and I truly believe that it will be safer for him if he does not know who you are yet. Were he to learn it, I fear that he would be torn between the desire to do his duty and fight to regain Atlantis and the need to keep you safe through all the turmoil. He has already shown himself to be deeply devoted to the wellbeing of those he loves or has promised to protect. Unfortunately, he has also shown a worrying propensity to act without thinking things through when those he wishes to protect are threatened. If he were to discover your identity and to believe you to be at risk I believe his first desire would be to rescue you… no matter what the risk to himself or the situation he was in at the time. If it were to happen that he was in a battle at such a time as he discovered any perceived risk to you, I fear his attention might be fatally divided." She paused and drew in a shuddering breath. "I have lost my son once and locked my grief in my heart. I cannot lose him again."

Tyro reached out and covered Pasiphae's hand where it rested on the windowsill with her own. The Queen looked down at it in bemusement for a moment before looking up sharply at the older woman.

"It is a sorrow we have been united in," the former Queen murmured quietly. "To lose a child is a terrible thing and I rejoice that your son has been returned to you after all this time." She chuckled at Pasiphae's suspicious look. "Oh, do not look so sceptical. I would not wish the grief of losing a child on anyone – _even you_ … and Jason's reappearance in your life also lessens the sorrow in mine. He is, after all, my grandchild – the only grandchild I will have… The sorrow of a lost child is never-ending and the fear of losing one after previous loss eats away at you."

"You speak as one who knows that fear," Pasiphae said curiously.

"Aeson was not my only child," Tyro replied. "Surely you must have known that? He was merely the only one who lived to become an adult. I have loved and lost _all_ my children. If I can help you to protect my grandson I will."

"Then we understand one another," Pasiphae responded softly.

She looked up at the night sky for a moment and smiled to herself. The moon was very bright tonight; Selene shining her pleasure down on the world below.

"I would ask you not to speak with Jason yet," she went on. "I believe the chance of him experiencing any sort of vision and learning your identity that way will be greatly decreased if he does not speak with you directly." She glanced at her companion. "Thanks to my sister I have some understanding of how this sort of vision works; of what a rare gift it is. I know that Jason may still learn of his relationship to you in spite of any precautions I might make, and am prepared to deal with the consequences of him finding out prematurely… but I would prefer to lessen the risk as much as I can. When my sister first showed signs of becoming a powerful seer and was taken from our home to train to be a priestess, I tried to learn everything I could about her gift – although I was no more than a child at the time. What I learned was that until a seer learns to control their prescience, visions can come to them at any time. With visions of the future there seems to be nothing specific that triggers them – they are sent by the Gods to give foreknowledge of what is to come. With visions of the past, however, things are a little different. Unless they come in dreams, they require some sort of physical trigger; a touch; a sound; a smell; a sight. It could be the sound of a voice; the scent of a perfume; touching an object that has strong memories associated with it… any number of things… and the memories do not need to be the seer's own – just as long as there are strong emotions attached to whatever triggers the vision."

At her side, Tyro frowned deeply.

"The evening when the boy stumbled into the gynaikonitis, he brushed against a hydria that Cretheus brought me back as a gift from a trip to Corinth in the early years of our marriage. It is one of my most precious possessions; one of the few things from my former life that I brought with me. I have so many fond memories attached to it. When Jason brushed against it, he put his hand on it to stop it falling and… well the only way I can describe it is that he froze. It was only for a moment, but for that moment he no longer seemed to be mentally present in the room with me; he seemed far away; lost… and he did not return to reality until I physically touched his arm. He was so pale; so… disconcerted. He quickly rallied and left to find the dining room… which had been his intent when he entered the room by mistake. I had put the incident out of my mind until now. Could this have been one of the visions you claim he has?"

"I do not merely _claim_ that Jason has the gift of foresight," Pasiphae flared. "It is a fact which has been confirmed by the Oracle."

"It was a poor choice of words on my part," Tyro murmured apologetically. "I did not intend to suggest that you were not being honest in this matter."

"Very well," Pasiphae acknowledged, mollified. She sighed. "I suspect that you are right," she added. "Jason may well have been seeing a moment from the past when he touched the hydria… although, whatever it was that he saw, it clearly did not tell him of your identity – something which I am grateful for." She paused and glanced at her former mother-in-law once more. "I do not believe that we should be seen in one another's company… or at least should not be seen to be alone together. I fear it would lead to too many potentially awkward questions being asked about who you are. It is not common after all for someone to have a private audience with the Queen of Atlantis – even if we are in exile at the moment – unless they are a high ranking member of the Court or a member of a royal family… be it my own or one of our allies." She half smiled. "But I do not need to tell you this… After all it was you who taught me how to be queen."

"That was a very long time ago," Tyro replied softly. "We were both very different people back then… but you are right; it is better to be prudent. I will return to the main gathering and try to avoid direct contact with Jason."

"Thank you," Pasiphae murmured.

As Tyro turned to leave, the Queen caught hold of her arm.

"It is unlikely that Jason will speak to you if you do not seek him out," Pasiphae said. "He is by nature not entirely _comfortable_ in this sort of gathering… is perhaps a little shy of strangers at times… but if it _should_ happen accidentally…"

"I will tell him nothing," Tyro confirmed. "I will be polite but will end the conversation as soon as I can. I will give you no reason to regret allowing me to see him."

"Good," Pasiphae replied letting the older woman's arm go and allowing her to step away. "I truly hope I _do_ have no reason to regret this… for your sake."

* * *

Anaxandros stared out of the window at the dark city with a feral smirk. With every day that passed his grip on Atlantis grew stronger. The flow of escapees from the city had slowed to a trickle as more and more of the traitors helping them to escape had been apprehended and now languished in the overcrowded dungeons awaiting their fate. Surely there must only be a few malcontents out there now who were trying to subvert the natural order and committing treason to do so. Every day the guards caught more of these traitors; every day the noose around the city drew tighter.

Outside, all was in darkness. The curfew was in full force and the only lights blazing were those from the Palace itself and the torches along the city wall. Here and there a few lights bobbed along a distant street as the torch wielding patrols went about their duties, searching for anyone that was breaking the curfew. In the far distance there was a roar; evidence that the guards had spotted someone and released the hunting lions to catch them.

Anaxandros' smirk widened. He liked to see the city like this: completely cowed; completely under his control.

The news from the outlying districts was equally good. Athanos had fallen several days ago and the news from Thera was that the town was about to fall at any time. The entire kingdom was rapidly falling into his grasp.

He stood with his hands on the windowsill and drew in a great lungful of the night air.

The only dark spot on the horizon was the complete failure of his men to discover what had happened to the former king and his family. Anaxandros' face fell into its more usual scowl. He didn't like loose ends and not knowing what had happened to Minos niggled at him. As long as Minos remained alive and at liberty there was always the chance that somehow he might manage to come back to challenge the Amphigeneian King.

Still, that hardly seemed likely. With the kingdom rapidly coming to heel there were few places that could harbour Minos and even fewer places that he could turn to for support. No. Minos was a spent force and it was surely only a matter of time before the hiding place he had slunk off to was discovered and he was dragged back to Atlantis in chains to be executed in front of the people.

Anaxandros allowed himself a vicious grin again. The Gods were smiling on him; Hermes was clearly pleased with the homage that the Amphigeneian people paid to him and was favouring his people. Anaxandros' grin grew. It was equally apparent that Poseidon was _not_ favouring the people of Atlantis. Perhaps they had been lax in their prayers and duties to him. Whatever the truth of the matter was, it acted in the favour of the Amphigeneian King.

Every day his position became more secure. Now it was time to start bleeding Atlantis dry.

* * *

The evening was winding down to a close but neither Chalcon, Ariadne or Jason had had any luck discovering who the mystery woman was. None of the local nobility seemed to know her at all – which in itself was pretty suspicious. Ariadne had even resorted to trying to wheedle the information out of her father (they had reasoned that since the lady was living on a royal estate, the King, at least, should know who she was) but Minos had evaded the question skilfully and afterwards spent the rest of the evening deep in conversation with King Mithridates of Pontus – much to Ariadne's annoyance since she could not interrupt them without seeming rude.

Jason sighed to himself as he slipped out of the sitting room in search of a few moments to himself. Chalcon escorted Ariadne to take some air in the garden nearest to the house a short time earlier (and it had been far harder than Jason had wanted to admit to watch them walking away together). The Tanagran Prince had proved good company for most of the evening. He was very observant and had a wicked sense of humour. Some of his comments about the guests at tonight's meal (delivered in a soft undertone that travelled no further than Jason's ears) had left Jason desperately trying to smother a spluttered laugh or avoid choking on his drink; they were so sharply funny. Finally, Ariadne had re-joined them to report on her lack of progress. Spotting his father beginning to glower at the lack of attention he had apparently been paying to his betrothed, Chalcon had finally taken Ariadne away, leaving Jason alone once more.

After they had left Jason had returned to his quiet spot in the corner to people watch at leisure. Unfortunately, the noblewoman who had attempted to get his attention earlier in the evening had spotted that he was alone and had swept over to join him. Jason had hurriedly looked around for the woman's husband but he was deep in conversation with King Laius – who the young man hadn't been able to help noticing, looked less than thrilled at the conversation.

Still, that had left _him_ stuck with the man's dreadful wife. After just a few moments of her grating voice and constant inappropriate insinuations (bordering on the edge of being full blown suggestions or blatant invitations to spend some private time with her), Jason was giving serious thought to hurling himself headfirst out of the nearest window and running for the hills just to escape her.

Fortunately perhaps, Pasiphae had noticed his expression from across the other side of the room and had swooped in to help her son. Although she had remained terribly polite, she had also been icily sharp. While she had given no hint of her relationship with Jason, she had made pointed comments older women making fools of themselves chasing after young men whose social status was possibly higher than their own and implied that it would be a shame if their husbands came to hear of it. The noblewoman had been no match for Pasiphae at her regal (and terrifying) best and had backed away rapidly, thoroughly cowed.

After a few moments, several others had joined them, and Jason had slipped out shortly afterwards. It was a relief to be away from prying eyes for a little while; the constant need to watch everything he said and did so that he didn't break some obscure custom or convention and inadvertently cause offence was tiring. He knew, of course, that he was under nowhere near as much scrutiny as the known members of the royal family but right now it was still more than enough for him.

He wandered a short way down the corridor to the door of the small sitting room he had withdrawn to on the first night he had attended one of these formal dinners, when Laius had first arrived in Pagenia (and had slipped away to on several occasions since). He was expecting to be alone; the room was usually deserted most nights (it was too small for entertaining after all).

It was a surprise, therefore, to see someone standing in the window with their back to him as he entered the room. Jason drew back slightly, startled, as the figure turned. It was the lady who had been watching him during supper; the lady whose identity he had been trying to find out all evening. She looked just as surprised to see him here as he was to see her.

"Hello," Jason said awkwardly.

"Good evening," the lady replied.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't expected anyone to be in here," Jason apologised. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"It is of no consequence," the lady said. "You have not disturbed me unduly. If you will excuse me."

She went to walk past Jason towards the door. Up close her skin was very pale, with just the hint of dimples in her cheeks, and her eyes were very bright. As she passed, she cast a sideways glance at him that could almost be described as hungry; as though she was memorising every feature. Jason felt a little shock of recognition again – although he could not have said why.

"Wait," he said, reaching out a hand as though to grab her arm, only to let it fall helplessly; knowing that it would be a breach of manners to touch her. "Forgive me but… who are you?"

The woman paused.

"I am no-one that matters, child," she replied. Her voice was soft and sad.

"You live here, don't you?" Jason asked. "My name's Jason." He paused. "I'm sorry," he added. "I don't mean to pry… it's just… I feel like I know you from somewhere. Have we met before?"

"Of course we have met," the older woman murmured. "We met on the night that you arrived here in Pagenia with King Minos. Surely you remember?"

"No," Jason said urgently. "I don't mean then. I know we met when I ended up in your chambers. I am sorry about that by the way. I didn't know what a gynaikonitis was. My friend explained it to me. I would never have intruded if I'd known."

"You were lost and had no way of knowing what the chamber was," the lady assured him. "I took no offence."

Jason flashed one of his slightly shy smiles.

"Thank you," he murmured. "When I asked if we'd met… I meant somewhere other than here; not in Pagenia."

Something flashed across the older woman's eyes but was gone before Jason could identify what it was.

"I think it is unlikely," she said gently. "I would think that you would have been just a baby in arms when I moved here to Pagenia and I have not travelled far since."

"Then how can it be that you seem so familiar to me?"

"I do not know, child," the woman answered. "There are many things in this life that cannot be explained. You will learn that as you grow older."

Jason nodded and swallowed hard.

"You _do_ live here though, don't you?" he asked. "On this estate, I mean."

"I do," his companion replied. "The King has been good enough to allow me to retire here." She paused. "My husband… my late husband… held a position of some importance and responsibility in Atlantis. After he died… Well, within a few short years I lost both my husband and my only remaining child… I lost all the family I had left. I had no desire to remain at Court at that point and King Minos was kind enough to offer me a home here."

Jason frowned. What she said seemed reasonable enough and yet something about it didn't quite ring true. There was something he was missing, he was sure of it; something that lingered on the very edge of his consciousness.

"The first time we met, you thought I was Alexarchos, the overseer, when I entered the room," he began slowly. "You sounded… _scathing_ when you were talking about the King; like you didn't like him very much."

The older lady sighed.

"That is because I do not," she admitted softly. "There was too much that happened at around the time he took the throne. I had friends who supported the true King. I lost too much when Minos usurped the throne – lost too many people who I cared about – to ever truly forgive him." She sighed again. "The truth is that he has been very good to me – perhaps better than I deserved. He has allowed me to live in comfort in the obscurity I desired without demanding any form of recompense. I should be grateful… and yet I cannot forget and I cannot forgive."

"I'm sorry," Jason said quietly. "I did not mean to bring up bad memories."

"Oh bless you, child. My memories are not so bad," the lady replied quickly. "I had a good life in Atlantis before the civil war and my life here has been both comfortable and peaceful. I have little to complain of." She smiled softly to herself.

"You were a member of the Court before the civil war?" Jason asked. "Back when Aeson was King?"

The old lady's expression immediately became guarded.

"I was," she admitted carefully. "But it is ancient history now and it will do no good to dwell on it." She looked at the door. "I must go," she added. "There is someone I _must_ speak with before this evening is over."

"I'm sorry," Jason said. "I won't keep you if you really have to go. It was just that I was wondering whether you knew the Queen back then – if you were a member of the Court – and I just wondered what she was like…"

"She was very young," the old lady answered. "She was very elegant and very charming. She was quite innocent when I first met her… a very different person from who she is now." Her expression hardened.

"And did you know King Aeson too?"

"I knew him all his life," the old lady said reflectively. "He always appeared to be honourable… to have the best intentions." She shook herself. "I really must go," she added, moving rapidly towards the door.

She was gone before Jason could respond.

It was only after she left that he realised that he still didn't know her name.

* * *

"I simply cannot see how we can get our combined forces to Atlantis without being spotted long before we ever get there," Attalos growled loudly, pushing himself away from the table and pacing the room like a caged lion.

Mithridates leant over the map on the table and frowned, deep in thought.

"I grant you it is a problem we have yet to solve," he acknowledged, "but between us and our advisors we have a wealth of experience. There _must_ be a solution we are missing."

"If there isn't, our enterprise is doomed before it begins," the Pergamonian King grumbled pessimistically. "Because our army is so fragmented – out of necessity given that we are all camped in such differing locations – it would be easy for the Amphigeneians to attack one section at a time and overwhelm us with sheer force of numbers. We may have more men in total but they are widespread and if Anaxandros' forces were to fall on, say for example, _my_ army there simply would not be time for the rest of you to come to my aid before my forces were annihilated."

"That would hardly be any great loss," Agrias sneered. "You have the smallest army of anyone here. The loss of your troops would hardly affect the outcome of the battle in the end… and I for one would rather not be listening to a man who is effectively a cautious old woman. If you are not prepared to take any risks with your men then there is no place for you here."

The room went silent.

"What did you call me?" Attalos hissed.

"I did not realise your hearing was going as well as your courage," Agrias sniffed.

Attalos barked an incredulous laugh.

"He is calling me a coward!" he said to the room in general. "Be _very_ careful," he advised, turning back to Agrias. "Wars have been started with less provocation."

"I am trembling in my shoes," Agrias said sarcastically.

"Gentlemen!" Mithridates said sharply. "I had believed that we were supposed to be fighting a common enemy _not_ one another."

"I beg your forgiveness Minos," Attalos said, turning towards the Atlantian King, "but I will not stand idly by and let the likes of this fool insult me." He gestured towards Agrias. "Listen, you oaf," he added, staring at the Tanagran King. "I merely used _my_ army for illustrative purposes. The same principle would hold true of any one of us here. None of us have enough forces with us to stand against the bulk of the Amphigeneians. If our full armies were with us then that might be a different story but I doubt any one of us has brought _all_ their troops and left our own borders undefended. Even the great Agrias of Tanagra would see his army wiped out if the might of the Amphigeneians fell on them… and until we can find a way of approaching Atlantis undetected that will remain an unacceptable risk."

Agrias rolled his eyes.

"If this is such a problem then find a way of solving it," he growled.

"What in the name of the Gods do you think we have been trying to do for the past seven days?" Attalos roared.

Minos left the table and moved across the room to try to pacify his fellow kings. After so many days of discussion, tempers were fraying all too easily and frequently. Until they could find a solution to the problem of how to maintain the element of surprise, however, they would be unable to move on to the next stage of planning.

Still at the table, Dion fought the urge to glower. There were far too many large egos in this room for his liking and any meaningful decisions were taking far too long. The meeting this afternoon had been particularly bad tempered as everyone tried to grapple with what was amounting to their biggest problem.

"Where is everyone camped?"

Jason's softly spoken question took the burly general by surprise. It was too quiet to intrude on the argument now going on on the other side of the room, but there was an urgency to it nonetheless.

"The armies of King Agrias are camped near those of King Laius, here at Phanussae in Aegina," Dion rumbled quietly, gesturing towards a coastal town on the map. "King Attalos' forces are camped in nearby Lebilene." He gestured towards another point on the map some short distance away from Phanussae. "Those of Mithridates are in Chalceos in Naxos on the borders of Helios," he pointed towards a town on the opposite side of the map, "and those of King Pittacus of Milos are camped at Posope in Andros." The large soldier pointed to a town some distance from Chalceos and then to the diminutive king who had arrived while Jason and his friends were travelling back from Athanos.

Jason hummed in response as he studied the map intently, eyes skipping between the various towns and the city of Atlantis itself.

"Pagenia is a port," he murmured.

"A small one, yes," Dion replied with a frown. The young man's thoughts seemed to be skipping all over the place.

"I wonder how many boats are in the harbour at the moment?" Jason muttered, almost inaudibly.

"Quite a few, I would imagine," Dion answered, bemused. "Atlantis is apparently cut off to all sea trade while Anaxandros secures his position, so the ships which usually ply their trade in the city have had to seek shelter in other ports up and down the coast."

Jason glanced up with a slightly startled expression.

"Sorry," he apologised. "I wasn't really asking a question… It was more that I was thinking out loud."

"You have seen something that the rest of us have missed?" Minos asked, coming to join his stepson back at the map table.

Jason looked embarrassed that the attention of everyone in the room suddenly seemed to be focussed on him.

"No, My Lord," he replied quietly, flushing. "It was just an idea… Just some random thoughts, that is all."

"Jason, it is thanks to you that we are here at all. It was your idea to bring the garrisons to Pagenia and to send for our allies in the first place. If you have an idea now then I wish to hear it," Minos said firmly. "It is, after all, why you are attending these meetings – why we all are; to come up with ideas and talk them through."

Jason nodded and fought the urge to bite his lip.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he said.

"Well then," Minos encouraged.

"How did everyone get here?" Jason asked.

He ignored Agrias' incredulous snort and focussed instead on the trust Minos was placing in him; trust that he still wasn't altogether sure he deserved.

"We took horses and rode," Laius replied. "Although I am not sure how that is relevant."

"No," Jason replied. "I did not mean how you got to Pagenia; I meant, how did your armies get to where they are camped now?"

"They marched," Laius answered, frowning.

"This is hardly getting us anywhere!" Agrias objected.

"Father!"

Until now Chalcon had been quiet throughout the meeting (as had Jason before now), preferring to listen and let the kings do the talking. Now though, he attempted to rein in his father's tongue before he offended everyone more than he already had.

"Be still boy!" Agrias growled. "And remember that I am your father and that you _will_ show me respect. I am only saying what everyone is thinking anyway."

"But they didn't march all the way from Thebes, did they?" Jason spoke directly to Laius, ignoring both the Tanagran King and his son.

"No, of course not," Laius replied. "There is a sea in between."

"So you came by boat," Jason stated. "And where are those boats now?"

"They are moored where we made landfall at Hellyras awaiting our return," Laius replied.

"And the same will apply to most of you?" Jason asked.

"Naturally," Laius said. "But I still fail to see how this is relevant."

"I believe that I do," Mithridates said calmly.

He turned to Minos.

"You are right," he murmured. "You said that your young kinsman was clever; that he looked at problems from a different perspective to the rest of us. Yet this solution is so simple that I wonder that none of us saw it."

Minos gave a wry smile.

"I suspect it is because we are all too well trained in the intricacies of warfare to see the obvious solution," he said.

He turned to Jason.

"If I am reading your ideas clearly, you are suggesting that we should approach Atlantis by sea," he said.

"That was what I was thinking," Jason answered. "I don't know how feasible it would be though."

"Very feasible," Dion rumbled, leaning across the map and measuring things off. "With the port in Atlantis closed, it is unlikely the Amphigeneians will be watching the sea too closely. We could be almost in sight of the walls before they ever knew we were there." He looked at his King. "The plan has merit, My Lord… although it is basic at present and will need some developing."

"So," Minos said, "we have the beginnings of a plan. What we will need, however, is to refine it. We must decide how to proceed from here. If we can arrange for the ships carrying our armies to join up before making landfall then we will present a united force which must give even Anaxandros reason to doubt. The difficulty will be in arranging a time and place to meet… but that will be a question for another day," he added, looking out of the window and gauging the position of the sun. "The evening draws near and with it time for rest and relaxation… and a good supper, it is to be hoped. Let us end our discussions for now my friends and meet again in the morning."

"Your Majesty," Dion said respectfully as everyone began to file out and the conversation turned to more pleasant subjects, "if I might have a moment more of your time?"

Minos frowned deeply.

"Of course," he replied, motioning Lord Herodion to remain in the room.

On a whim Jason stayed too, reasoning that they would ask him to leave if they didn't want him there.

"My Lord, I have been receiving disturbing reports from the patrols we sent out to explore the countryside to the west of here," Dion began.

"What sort of reports?" Herodion asked. "Has the enemy been seen?"

It was a valid concern. If the Amphigeneians were anywhere near, it would throw all their plans into disarray.

"No," Dion answered. "It is nothing like that… it would seem that there is a monster living along the coast to the west of here."

"A monster?" Minos asked. "Why should this concern us?"

"The reports are that it is a gorgon, Your Majesty," Dion rumbled. "It would appear that one of my men was separated from the rest of the patrol. He stumbled upon it in the woodland and was turned to stone. The other men from the unit discovered the statue that he had become."

Minos' frown deepened even further.

"Gorgons are incredibly rare," he remarked. "You are certain of this report? Could it not be that the man simply deserted and his friends chose to cover it up by creating this incredible story?"

"I know every man in that patrol," Dion asserted. "I saw the horror on their faces. This is no story, My Lord. The gorgon is there… and if she is… well, I hardly need tell you what a threat it could be. If the Amphigeneians were to manage to capture her somehow, she would make an almost unbeatable weapon against us."

"Indeed," Minos agreed.

He exchanged a long glance with Herodion.

"Very well," he added. "Do whatever you must to flush out and kill this monster. Despatch a detachment tonight to deal with the situation."

Jason's heart sank as a cold feeling gripped him. He was very much afraid that after all these months they had found her; they had found Medusa.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N Good morning. Well here I am with another chapter (finally!).

As ever, I own nothing but my own ideas - Atlantis and its characters (unfortunately) belongs to the BBC.

I hope you enjoy the chapter - don't forget to let me know if you do ;-)

* * *

Once he had left the meeting room, Jason hurried down the corridor to his own chamber. He couldn't let the Atlantian soldiers get to Medusa, he just couldn't. He wasn't sure who would be more in danger: Medusa, who was being hunted, or the soldiers, who would risk being turned to stone simply by being near to her. The potential for disaster was too high for him to think about. What it boiled down to was that Medusa was a friend and Hercules loved her – would to anything to save her. For Jason that was enough.

He fought the urge to break into a run, knowing that he was more likely to be noticed if he did and wanting to avoid that at all costs. Finally, though, he reached the door of his room and stepped inside.

Hurrying over to the bed, Jason dropped to one knee and grabbed the bag he had stuffed under there when he had returned from Athanos just a couple of days ago. At the time he had believed that he wouldn't need it again until they left to reclaim Atlantis and yet here he was, just three days on, planning another hasty trip. If all went well, though, this would be a _very_ short journey; short enough that he could hopefully find Medusa, escort her to safety and get back here before anyone really noticed he was missing – particularly if he could persuade someone to cover for him.

Really, he was only packing a bag in case of emergency – so that if it took longer than he thought he would still be alright. If, by some twist of bad luck, he was delayed in returning, he knew there would be little chance of his absence escaping his mother's notice but he was willing to face whatever consequences might come his way if it meant saving Medusa.

Pushing himself back to his feet, Jason bit his lip absently, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the room, trying to decide what to pack in the bag. He shoved a couple of blankets into it and on a whim grabbed a spare tunic and trousers (the plainest ones he could find in the box at the end of his bed). Crossing to the table, he emptied the fruit out of the bowl into the bag. It would have been better if he could have got some bread and proper food to take for Medusa but this would have to do. If he took the short hunting bow that was tucked behind the door with him there might perhaps be a chance to catch something before he left her so that he could at least make sure she had some fresh meat (something he suspected was a rarity for the woman given that any living creature that looked at her was instantly turned to stone).

Moving quickly, he changed into his everyday clothes (the ones he had arrived at the Palace in all those weeks ago), pulled on his breastplate and grabbed his cloak and sword from a hook on the back of the door. Then he stopped dead in the middle of the room. What was he doing? He'd promised both the King and Pasiphae that he wouldn't run off like this again after that last night in Atlantis when he had left the Palace unannounced and gone to fight in the battle. Yet here he was, jumping into something with both feet without stopping to think about it.

Jason shook himself hard. Hercules always said he acted without thinking – was too impulsive – and right now he was just proving the big man right.

What else could he do though? He supposed he could have tried to speak to Minos (the man had been nothing but kind and fair to him so far after all) but, truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure that would have been fair to the King. Minos had a duty to protect his people and Medusa _was_ a threat to their safety whether Jason liked it or not. He didn't think it would have been right to put the King in a position where he had to choose between the welfare of his men and the happiness of his stepson.

So where did that leave him? He couldn't let Hercules know what was going on – that much was certain. The burly wrestler would want to run off to save Medusa no matter what the cost to himself (Jason resolutely ignored the little voice in his head that pointed out that that was what _he_ had been about to do too) and there was always the risk that he would try to sacrifice himself to save her again, like he had tried to do on the shores of Cisthene. Pythagoras and Jason had long since agreed that they couldn't let that happen – so telling Hercules that Medusa was nearby was definitely out.

That left just two people really who he could talk this over with (he discounted both Ariadne and the Oracle out of hand because he felt there was little either of them could do to help in this particular situation) – Pythagoras and Pasiphae.

Speaking with Pythagoras was a must of course. The genius mathematician would be the one left behind to prevent Hercules from finding out what was going on after all. Pythagoras was likely to want to come along to help but the truth was that since he couldn't look at Medusa safely, he would be much more useful here effectively guarding Hercules and preventing the big man from learning the truth.

So the question remained, should he speak to his mother? Jason paused, deep in thought.

The truth was that he didn't feel like he knew Pasiphae well enough yet to be able to predict how she would react. Would she be sympathetic and understand his need to help a friend? Or would she only see Medusa as a threat and forbid him to go. There was only one way to find out he supposed.

Right there and then though, Jason promised himself that, whatever Pasiphae said, he would still save Medusa from the soldiers Dion was despatching to hunt her (promised Hercules and Medusa that he would not let them down).

Decision made, he stuck his head out of the room and checked the corridor beyond, making sure he wouldn't be seen leaving. As quietly as he could, Jason slipped out and down around the corner to the chamber Pythagoras and Hercules shared.

Outside the door he paused and hid his cloak, sword and bag behind a handy plant so that if Hercules happened to be in the room he wouldn't question what Jason was doing with them (Jason was fairly certain he could explain away the breastplate by saying he'd just returned from sparring or something but the cloak and bag would be a bit of a giveaway that he was planning on going somewhere).

He tapped the door and stuck his head round.

"Alright if I come in?" he asked.

Pythagoras looked up from a parchment he was studying at the table. It appeared to be covered with triangles.

"Of course," he replied. "You don't really need to ask."

Jason made his way in and flopped down onto a stool opposite the mathematician.

"No Hercules?" he inquired, looking around the chambers, relieved when he didn't see the burly wrestler.

"No," Pythagoras answered with a smile as he pushed away the parchment. "Nisos came to ask for his help earlier. Several of the soldiers have been losing heavily at dice in the town. Dion suspects that it may be a rigged game; that a cheat and a trickster is at work. He has asked Nisos to investigate but the soldiers who have lost their money have proved less than willing to talk about it – I suspect they are embarrassed. Nisos knows that Hercules likes to gamble so he came to ask where this possibly rigged game is going on. Hercules decided it would be easier to show him all the possible locations – perhaps because most of them are in taverns – so they have gone off together. I am fully expecting to find him passed out drunk somewhere in the morning."

"It's probably just as well he's not here," Jason said seriously. "It's you I need to talk to anyway… and it's something that I need to keep Hercules from finding out about… for now at least."

Pythagoras frowned deeply. He never liked the thought of keeping secrets from either one of his friends – even at times when he knew it was necessary.

"I think you had better tell me the worst," he said. "What's going on?"

Jason looked down at the table top, trying to gather his thoughts, picking absently at a splinter with one ragged fingernail. Pythagoras' frown deepened with concern and he reached out to still his friend's hands.

"Jason," he said firmly. "What are you worrying about? What is wrong?"

Jason looked up at him, his head still bowed towards the table.

"I think they've found Medusa," he said.

"What are you talking about?" Pythagoras asked. "Who has found Medusa?"

"A patrol," Jason answered. "An Atlantian patrol." He looked his friend full in the face. "Dion has received word that one of the patrols he sent out believes they have encountered a gorgon several hours ride to the west, in the woodlands along the coast. One of the soldiers was apparently turned to stone."

"That doesn't mean that it is definitely Medusa," Pythagoras protested. "I know that gorgons are extremely rare but it is possible that it might not be her."

"I don't think we can afford to take that risk," Jason replied. "The King has ordered Dion to send men to sweep the caves along the coast and destroy the gorgon if they find her. Medusa was living in a cave before… and if it _is_ her I cannot sit idly back and see her killed."

"No," Pythagoras agreed. "We cannot risk that." He looked trustingly at his friend. "So what is the plan?" he asked. "What are we going to do?"

"I'm going to take a horse and head down the coast tonight," Jason answered. "If I leave now I should be able to get there ahead of the soldiers. If it is Medusa then I'll get her away to safety… and if it's not then I think I'm probably the best person to deal with it anyway… after all, I'm the only person we know about that can look at Medusa and not be turned to stone."

"Very well," Pythagoras said. "Give me a few moments to get ready and we will be under way."

"No," Jason replied. "I don't think you should come with me." He grabbed Pythagoras' hand before the young genius could protest against what he was saying. "You know there's no-one I trust more than you and Hercules… and you know there's no-one I'd rather have at my side… but I'm going to need you to cover for me here."

"Jason," Pythagoras began, fully intending to argue his point.

"Listen," Jason said. "If Hercules comes back early and finds us gone, what will he do?"

"Try to follow us," Pythagoras replied with realisation dawning on his face. "And if he discovers that there is a possible threat to Medusa there will be no stopping him."

"Exactly," Jason said. "Part of me wonders whether Medusa left Cisthene because she was afraid that Hercules would come back and try to sacrifice himself for her again. You know that I went back with supplies but she'd gone."

"If that was truly what she feared, then I am very much afraid she may have been right," Pythagoras murmured. "Even now, thinking about what happened is like a knife to his heart. I genuinely fear what he would do if he were to find her again."

"Which is why we can't tell him," Jason replied seriously. "I need you to stay here in case Hercules comes back and to make sure he never learns where I have gone. I give you my word that if this is Medusa, I will get her to safety."

"He will never forgive either one of us if he learns that we kept Medusa's location from him," Pythagoras pointed out.

"I know," Jason admitted, "but I'd far rather have an angry Hercules than a dead Hercules. I'm not willing to risk that even if it means he never talks to me again."

"Yes," Pythagoras replied, looking earnestly at his friend. "Me too."

"Right then," Jason said. "I'd better be getting on. I need to go and speak to Pasiphae before I leave."

Pythagoras frowned.

"Is that wise?" he asked. "Forgive me but Pasiphae is not noted for her kindness and she has shown herself to be somewhat protective of you. Surely she will object to you leaving?"

"Maybe she will," Jason answered, "but I still need to talk to her. I promised her that I wouldn't disappear again without telling her. Apparently she was a bit upset when I did it the night before the Amphigeneians took Atlantis."

"Yes," Pythagoras replied. "She _was_ upset… and more than just a bit. She called me to see her that night before I came to look for you. She was worried and angry."

Jason grimaced and nodded. He still felt a little guilty for worrying his mother so much – even though part of him still struggled to believe anyone had actually been worried about _him_.

"The King told me," he said softly. "He said she was frightened that she was going to lose me again. I promised him that I'd never go off like that again without talking to someone… I promised them both – and I'm not going to break that promise."

"You never break your promises if there's any way of keeping them," Pythagoras stated. "It is part of what makes you who you are."

"Mmm," Jason replied. "Anyway, I hope that she'll understand why I'm doing this at least… Don't get me wrong, I know she can be difficult and I know that she's not a good person… but she _has_ tried to understand when it's something that I feel strongly about and so far she hasn't let me down… and at the end of the day I'm going to try to rescue Medusa whether my mother agrees or not. I'd rather go with her blessing but I'll still find a way round it if she objects… and I'm more than willing to face any consequences if it means Medusa is safe."

Pythagoras looked steadily at him.

"I do not think any consequences Pasiphae could come up with would be pleasant… or anything to make light of," he pointed out.

The corners of Jason's mouth twisted up slightly into a small but sardonic smile.

"I know," he said, "but I still think it's worth the risk… I don't think Pasiphae would do anything _too_ permanent to me after all… and who knows? She might not object at all." He hesitated for a moment. "You don't have to be part of this if you don't want to," he added. "I won't think any less of you."

"Nonsense," Pythagoras said firmly. "You have no hope of success without me."

He grinned to let Jason know he was joking.

Jason returned his smile.

"No. All will be well," he said, more hopefully than he perhaps believed. "But if I am to get to Medusa before the soldiers, then I need to get moving."

"Very well," Pythagoras replied. "Then let us go and speak with the Queen."

* * *

Pasiphae stood in the window of her chamber looking out at the setting sun and going over the events of the day in her mind. Everything was going well. Minos had sent for her shortly after the other Kings had left him and gone over the events of the meeting with her. Jason's suggestion of using ships to transport them and their armies to retake Atlantis definitely met with her approval. The plan was clever both for its simplicity and for the fact that it was not something conventional and was therefore less likely to be anticipated. It was gratifying to learn that her son was capable of reasoned thought – of strategic planning – and was not simply given to impulsive and irrational behaviour. She sighed inaudibly. That last thought was less kind than she had intended. It was just that she worried a little about just how much Jason let himself be ruled by his heart. She knew, though, that he was not unintelligent and he had proved himself to be capable of devising well thought out plans when he had come up with the ideas that had brought them here and given them the means of creating an army. While it was true that he had no formal training in tactics, it was also clear that he had some natural talent – even if his ideas were unconventional.

Minos had been pleased and had made sure that she knew it. Pasiphae smiled softly. She would take some pleasure in letting Jason know just how proud she was of him. It was strange (almost frightening) how much her thoughts and feelings had changed over the last few weeks since she had met her son properly for the first time. Then, much as she had longed to have Jason at her side, she had been determined to mould him into the person she had decided he would be; had decided that _she_ would never be indulgent or ignore any perceived deficiencies in Jason's character; had never dreamed that she would actually find her son charming. Now, she found herself willing to let the smaller things slide a little; found herself looking forwards to the time she spent alone with Jason – jealously guarded any time they had. She loved her dark-haired son fiercely and was far prouder of him than she would ever have believed possible.

The Sun dropped a little lower towards the horizon. It really was a beautiful evening. The sky was coloured in pinks and blues, ranging from a pink so dark it was almost red to a blue so pale it looked silver, and the Sun was a ball of blazing orange-gold, reflected in the sparkling waves of the sea. It would be time to send for the handmaiden who had been looking after her here in Pagenia and to start dressing for supper soon. For the moment, though, Pasiphae was loath to do that, preferring to take a few more minutes to herself (a rarity these days).

A firm knock at the door made her turn swiftly. Jason and his friend Pythagoras slipped quickly into the room, the young mathematician quietly shutting the door behind him. Pasiphae's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she took in her son's appearance. Why was Jason wearing that breastplate?

"I need to talk to you," Jason said before she could speak and dispensing with any greeting.

Pasiphae frowned deeply.

"Go on," she said.

Jason exchanged a quick look with Pythagoras.

"I don't know quite where to start," he admitted.

"The beginning is always a good place," Pasiphae retorted sharply.

Jason swallowed and nodded.

"Yes," he agreed.

He came to stand beside Pasiphae at the window.

"Not long after I first came to Atlantis, an old man came to us and asked us to help him find his daughter," he said. "Anyway, to cut a long story short, this man's daughter had been kidnapped to be initiated into the maenads. I promised him I would rescue her… only, when we found her she didn't want to leave. She had become a maenad."

"That is hardly an unusual story," Pasiphae sniffed. "It is the normal course of events when Dionysus is involved."

"There was another woman there, though, who had been kidnapped by them and wished only for escape. Medusa. Her name was – is – Medusa," Jason went on. "We… I couldn't leave her. I couldn't let the satyrs kill her… so we rescued her and brought her back to Atlantis with us."

Pasiphae's frown grew ever deeper as a dreadful suspicion began to dawn upon her.

"Are you trying to tell me that you have been intimate with this woman?" she demanded.

The look of horror that came over Jason's face was almost comical.

"No!" he spluttered. "God no! She's my friend, nothing more! She and I… I would never… I've never even _thought_ of Medusa that way…"

Pasiphae heaved a silent sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted to have to deal with right now was any claims from former paramours or any children born out of wedlock. Given her son's attachment to Ariadne, and knowing what she did of his character, such an outcome had seemed unlikely – and yet she had still feared it.

"No," Jason went on. "Medusa and Hercules… well, they love each other." He paused and smiled softly to himself. "I don't think any of us expected Medusa to fall in love with Hercules… Hercules least of all… but the heart wants what it wants… you know?"

"Why exactly are you telling me this?" Pasiphae asked sharply. "And why are you wearing armour when I believe you are supposed to be getting ready for supper?"

Jason sighed.

"You remember I told you that I went away to work and when I came back I was ill?" he asked.

"You said you were injured while you were away and that that led to a serious illness," Pasiphae answered."

"Yes," Jason replied. "Medusa helped Pythagoras and Hercules to look after me… and gave me a kick up the bum when I was feeling sorry for myself and needed it."

Pasiphae frowned at his strange turn of phrase but did not interrupt.

"Anyway, not long after that Medusa was kidnapped by someone who Hercules owed money to," her son went on. "He basically told Hercules that he had to retrieve a box that he wanted or Medusa would be killed… What we didn't know at the time was that it was Pandora's Box."

"But that is guarded by Kampê in the blackest depths of Tartarus," Pasiphae stated.

Jason somehow wasn't surprised that his mother knew both what Pandora's Box was and where it had been kept.

"Well it was," he replied. "Hercules and I sort of went and fetched it."

"You descended into Hades?" Pasiphae asked incredulously.

"Well, yes," Jason answered, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. "How else were we going to save Medusa?"

"How exactly did you do this without dying?" Pasiphae demanded.

"We sought out the hierophant Eunapius," Pythagoras answered softly. "We… or perhaps I should say Jason… persuaded him to instruct us in the sacred Mysteries of Eleusis."

"The devotees of Persephone are not known for revealing their secrets," Pasiphae remarked, raising her eyebrow at her son.

"I may have threatened him," Jason muttered, looking a little sheepish. "I'm not necessarily proud of myself for doing it but I was willing to do anything to save Medusa." He paused for a moment and sighed softly. "Anyway, we retrieved the box but before we did, Kampê told us that it had once belonged to Pandora. Well, I couldn't let Kyros have it after that… who knows what he'd have done with it."

"You knew what it was then?"

"I'd heard of it, yeah," Jason admitted. "A box that contains all the evils of the world."

"Indeed," Pasiphae mused softly, looking out at the sunset thoughtfully. "And in the wrong hands it could bring disaster… or be a powerful weapon." She looked sharply at Jason. "Where is the box now?" she demanded.

Jason returned her look steadily.

"You know I am not going to tell you that, don't you?" he replied. "That box has brought nothing but sorrow."

He looked out of the window for a minute before continuing.

"We tricked Kyros by having a copy made of the box and exchanging _that_ for Medusa," he went on. "It worked really well. Only, in the fight that followed, Hercules sent Medusa back to our house for safety. The real box was hidden there. She opened it… and was cursed." He sighed deeply. "Medusa has become a gorgon and we haven't been able to find a cure… or at least, we haven't been able to find a cure that didn't have too high a price."

"It is a tale of woe," Pasiphae said. She looked at Jason shrewdly. "But why are you telling me this now? What has this to do with me?"

"The Oracle would not help me to find a way to lift the curse," Jason replied obliquely. "She said that this is Medusa's fate… but it is a fate that she does not deserve! She has done nothing wrong!"

"There are few who do deserve the fates that are chosen for them… but it is not for you or I to judge," Pasiphae retorted sharply. "It is the Moirai who determine what fate awaits any man or woman."

"Pythagoras says much the same thing," Jason said, "but I cannot accept that this _fate_ is what has been determined for Medusa. I cannot accept that we should do nothing to try to change it."

"That is not what I said and you know it!" Pythagoras responded. "I said that if it was Medusa's fate to be cursed then there was nothing that anyone could have done to avoid it… but that perhaps it is our fate to lift that curse."

"Maybe," Jason acknowledged.

"You still have not answered my question," Pasiphae pointed out briskly.

Jason swallowed hard.

"The only way we found to lift Medusa's curse was for Hercules to sacrifice his life," Jason said. "Medusa wasn't willing to do that – could not see the man she loved die for her – so she left. She had been living in a cave. I went back to take her some supplies but she'd gone."

"So that is how you know that you can look at a gorgon and not be affected by her," Pasiphae murmured, half to herself.

"Anyway," Jason went on. "This evening, just after the meeting ended, Dion asked to speak with the King. He said that his men had accidentally found evidence of a gorgon living somewhere down the coast to the west of here – about three hours ride away. He suggested that if the Amphigeneians got hold of her, she would be a dangerous weapon."

"He is right. She would," Pasiphae stated seriously. "She could kill hundreds without ever lifting a finger."

"Medusa would never do that willingly," Jason asserted. "I know her. I know she would never want to hurt anyone."

"You _knew_ her," Pasiphae corrected sharply. "In my experience, such adversity can irrevocably change a person – and not necessarily for the better." She paused to look at her son. "Even if you are correct, there might be circumstances under which she had no choice."

Jason sighed.

"I know," he admitted. "I may not like to think it, but I do know." He hesitated. "And I understand why Dion has no option but to see her as a threat too. In his mind she is no more than a monster."

"And we do not actually know that it _is_ Medusa," Pythagoras murmured. "Although I do agree that it is likely to be her," he added placatingly in response to Jason's irritated look.

"The King has ordered Dion to despatch men tonight to hunt her down and kill her," Jason said, not taking his eyes from his mother's face. "I can't sit by and see that happen."

"So what do you expect me to do?" Pasiphae asked briskly. "It would seem that the woman's fate is decided. Even were I to succeed in changing Minos' mind, it would likely be too late and the soldiers well on their way before the King could countermand his earlier orders."

"Nothing," Jason answered. "I don't want you to do anything." He paused and took a deep breath. "I'm going to go and get her away before the soldiers can get there. I'm going to take her to somewhere she'll be safe and then come back here."

Pasiphae's eyes hardened instantly.

"I see," she said, her tone deadly cold. "And if I were to order you not to go?"

"Then I'm afraid this would be one of those occasions that we talked about when I would have to refuse to do what you wanted," Jason replied seriously. "I am not going to leave Medusa to suffer and I'm willing to face the consequences of my actions if it comes to that. Besides," he added, "I'm probably the best person to deal with a gorgon anyway, since I can actually look at her and not be affected. A lot of men that we really can't afford to lose could be turned to stone trying to get rid of the gorgon. If it's Medusa, I can take her away from here and hopefully find somewhere where she won't be such a threat to people… and if it isn't, then I can deal with her as I need to."

"It would appear that you have at least begun to think this through," Pasiphae murmured, stepping away to give herself a little time and space to think. "If you have already decided on a course of action though," she said, turning back sharply towards her son, "why have you come to me?"

Jason sighed. He crossed the space between them and caught hold of his mother's hand.

"Because I promised both you and the King that I would never disappear like I did the night before Atlantis fell again," he said softly. "And I promised myself that I would never worry you like that again… I've also promised myself that I won't let Medusa and Hercules down, though. If there is any way to save her, I'm willing to do it." He paused for a moment. "I also told you because I hoped you would understand; that you would see why I want to do this… and why I am the best person to deal with a gorgon – whether it's Medusa or not."

Pasiphae watched him closely for a moment.

"Very well," she replied. She turned her head to fix Pythagoras with a hard look. "And what is to be _your_ role in all of this?" she enquired. "After all I hardly think my son has brought you to my chambers for decorative purposes."

She deliberately ignored the dark look Jason was directing towards her.

Pythagoras flinched slightly and swallowed hard.

"No, my Lady," he answered. "I will remain here to stave off any enquiries. My role will be to ensure that no-one realises Jason has gone."

"Especially Hercules," Jason muttered. "He can be a little… irrational when it comes to Medusa," he added in response to Pasiphae's questioning look. "He doesn't always think clearly."

"I was not aware that your friend Hercules even knew _how_ to think, much less think clearly," Pasiphae replied waspishly.

Jason bristled; his eyes flashing dangerously.

"So if he is to remain here," Pasiphae went on, gesturing at Pythagoras, "and your friend Hercules is not even being told you have gone, who will be accompanying you on this fool's errand you are intent on?"

"No-one," Jason replied abruptly, his anger clear in his sharp tone. "I don't need a babysitter."

Both Pasiphae and Pythagoras looked at him in a slightly confused manner – neither of them fully understanding the strange phraseology.

"It's more important for Pythagoras to stay here and cover for me," Jason added, relenting slightly. "If I'm going to get Medusa away safely then I need to make sure that no-one wonders where I am and starts looking." He sighed. "And the last thing either of us wants is Hercules following me. I told you a few minutes ago that the only way we had found to lift Medusa's curse was for Hercules to sacrifice his own life… only, what I didn't tell you was that he'd already tried. Obviously we stopped him… but I'm afraid that if he finds Medusa he'll try again. Besides," he added with a quick half-smile at Pythagoras, "Pythagoras wouldn't be able to be around Medusa safely anyway. All he would have to do was accidentally glance in her direction and he would be turned to stone. If he were to come with me, I'd probably spend all my time worrying about that."

"I still do not believe that you should go alone," Pasiphae retorted. She held up one hand to stave off her son's objections. "I know that you are capable of looking after yourself," she said, "but it would be easier to complete this mission of yours if you were to have help."

Jason shook his head.

"I couldn't put anyone else in danger like that," he argued.

"And if you were to take someone with you who would not be affected by a gorgon's gaze?" Pasiphae asked lightly.

"I don't understand," Jason admitted. "I don't know of anyone else who can look at Medusa and not be turned to stone."

The corners of Pasiphae's mouth tilted up in cold amusement.

"Do you not?" she asked smoothly. "I believed we had already established some time ago that you were unaffected by the gorgon's curse because you are touched by the Gods."

Jason's eyes narrowed thoughtfully and he frowned slightly as he thought back to the conversation he had had with his mother in the hunting lodge.

"The only other person that I know of who is touched by the Gods is… you," he said slowly.

"Indeed," Pasiphae agreed. "And like you I am unaffected by a gorgon."

She paused and looked out of the window for a moment, gathering her thoughts; her mind busily planning the night ahead.

"So," she said. "This is what will happen. You will leave here and use the servant's door at the side of the house to get to the courtyard – _try_ not to be seen. From there, you will go to the stables and prepare two horses. The stables are likely to be deserted at this time of night so you should not encounter anyone. Lead the horses to the path above the town and wait for me there. I will go to the King and explain our absence at supper. I will tell Minos that I have been called to the temple in the town and that the summons is urgent. You are with me because the Oracle has requested your presence at my side. Minos will not question the will of Poseidon's Oracle. It should buy us the time we need to find this woman you are intent on saving." She turned to Pythagoras. "Your only role will be to prevent your drunken friend from learning that Jason has gone and from finding out why. I suspect you will find that easier than having to lie directly to the King."

"I can't ask you to do this," Jason protested.

"And you have not," Pasiphae retorted sharply. "I do not do this because you have asked me. I do this because I will not see you wantonly place yourself in danger without any means of help, you foolish boy. I would forbid you to do this but I can see no benefit to doing so since you have openly told me you would defy my orders. I could, of course, lock you in your chambers and post guards to prevent your leaving… but I suspect that you would simply try to escape – and it is not a subject that I feel strongly enough about to wish to be at odds with you." She raised an eyebrow and looked at her son gravely. "I know that there will come a time when we are bound to argue and that there _will_ be times when I expect you to obey my commands even if you disagree – but for now I do not see the point of creating discord. Besides," she added in an offhand manner, "it may be that the gorgon might be of use to us as she would be of use to the Amphigeneians. She would be a formidable weapon."

"Medusa would never agree to that," Jason asserted, shaking his head.

"Perhaps you are right," Pasiphae answered. "And perhaps you are not. We shall see when we find her… but if we are to find her and spirit her to safety – presuming that it is indeed your friend of course and not some other monster – we must move quickly. There is little more to say. Go and do as I have instructed and I shall meet you shortly."

* * *

"There," Jason called softly, pointing to an object on the beach.

His voice sounded horribly loud in the still night, even though he was speaking as quietly as he could.

They had ridden hard along the coast road, knowing that they would have to move fast if they were to have any chance of finding Medusa and getting her away to safety before the Atlantian troops caught up with them. As they had gone, Jason had told his mother a little more about Medusa as a way of passing the time; had told her the story of how they had met in far more detail than earlier; told her how Medusa had saved his life when he and his friends had been sentenced to leap the bulls (and if he noticed Pasiphae flinch slightly when he casually mentioned the little mud figure wrapped with his hair that Medusa had found and stolen to save him, he chose not to acknowledge it).

It had been easy enough to find the statue of the Atlantian soldier in the woods near the coast; his face forever fixed in a horrified expression; his hands raised as though to ward off his terrible fate. Jason shuddered as he thought about it. It would be better if he could pretend that someone had just created a very lifelike statue out here in the woods, but he couldn't manage to forget that it had once been a living, breathing man.

Leaving the statue behind, they had moved to the top of the cliffs. Having tied up the horses safely where they could be rapidly retrieved later, Jason and the Queen had descended carefully down a steep path to the base of the cliffs and had begun to explore the honeycomb of caves that nestled in the rock-face. The moon was very bright and the air very still.

"What is it?" Pasiphae replied, gliding over to join her son.

"Rats," Jason answered, still pointing. "They've been turned to stone."

He looked at the dark entrance of the cave ahead of him and swallowed hard.

"She must be in there," he added.

"Indeed," Pasiphae agreed. "There is no time to waste. We should find her as quickly as we can and return to the horses."

Jason nodded tightly and lifted the torch he was carrying a little higher as he stepped through the narrow entrance and into the passageway beyond, leaving Pasiphae to watch for approaching soldiers. Near the face of the cliff the passage was really not much more than a crack in the rock; small, dark and narrow.

Jason swallowed hard again. God but he hated small, dark places. His breathing quickened slightly and his hand reflexively gripped the torch a little more firmly, as his free hand trailed along the slimy wall of the cave. Sand crunched beneath his feet.

The passageway opened out into a larger cavern. Near the back were the remains of a small fire and the ragged remnants of what might once have been a blanket or cloak (so tattered now that it was impossible to tell what they had once been).

"Medusa?" Jason called softly.

There was no answer.

"Medusa?" he tried again.

The soft, sibilant susurration of snakes whispered somewhere in the darkness at the back of the cave. Jason stepped forwards.

"Don't come any closer."

There was a desperate note in Medusa's voice; almost a sob in her tone.

"You should not be here."

"Medusa, I had to come," Jason began. "I…"

"How do you know my name?" Medusa interrupted. "Who are you? You are in great danger here."

"It's me," Jason answered. "It's Jason."

"Jason," Medusa repeated. "I have been alone for so long that I had almost forgotten what your voice sounded like."

She stepped forwards into the light cast by Jason's torch.

Jason tried to hide a wince at her appearance. The months since he had last seen her had not been kind to Medusa; the snakes that wreathed her head had grown longer and wild; her dress was little more than a rag and her sandals were clearly worn through.

Medusa stopped suddenly and began to draw back.

"Where is Hercules?" she asked urgently.

"He's not here," Jason answered. "He doesn't know you're here. I didn't tell him."

"Thank the Gods," Medusa answered. "I could not bear it if anything happened to him because of me. I left Cisthene because I was afraid he would come back and try to sacrifice himself for me."

"I know," Jason admitted. "That's why I didn't tell him you were here. I couldn't let anything happen to him either."

He carefully put the torch down on the floor and moved towards his friend; moving very slowly and carefully, the way he would if she were a frightened animal – his hand stretched out to her in a non-threatening manner.

Medusa flinched and half-stepped back as his hand touched her arm – her eyes very wide and wild.

"We have to leave here," Jason said softly. "You are in great danger."

Medusa gave a bitter laugh.

"What can threaten me?" she asked. "I am a danger to every living creature around me. Even the rats don't dare come near me for fear of being turned to stone."

"There are soldiers coming," Jason answered. "Atlantian soldiers. They are coming here to kill you."

"What are you talking about?"

"They know there's a gorgon living in these caves. The King has despatched soldiers to come and find you. To kill you," Jason said urgently. "They can't be far behind me. We have to leave… _now_."

"The soldier in the woods," Medusa murmured to herself. She looked at Jason sharply. "How do you know this?" she demanded.

"That doesn't matter for now," the young man replied. "I'll explain everything once we're away from here. I'm not going to let any harm come to you. I'm not going to let them kill you."

"Perhaps it would be better if you did," Medusa replied. "Then I wouldn't be a threat to anyone ever again."

"You can't mean that."

"Jason, this is my life now. I am going to spend the rest of my days living in caves as far away from other people as I can get. Do you have any idea what it is like to know that you are cursed like this? To know that you can never look at anyone again? Never speak to anyone? Never know kindness? This is it… forever, until I die."

"You mustn't give up hope," Jason answered. "We _will_ find a cure for you."

"How can I have hope when even the creatures that live along this shoreline fear to come near me?" Medusa asked. "All I know is silence and darkness. I would rather die than live like this."

"Medusa…" Jason began.

"This is all very well, but there are torches approaching so I am afraid any further conversation must wait," Pasiphae's sharp voice came from behind the young man.

Jason turned towards her as Medusa darted back into the deep shadows.

"How far away are they?" he asked.

"Still some distance," Pasiphae replied. "They are in the woods. If we leave quickly we should be well away from here by the time they find this cave. They will have to pause to explore all the caves along the shoreline as we did."

Jason nodded, half to himself.

"Alright," he said.

"You brought someone else here?" Medusa's voice sounded desperate in the darkness.

"It's alright," Pasiphae said gently. "You can come out."

Jason shot her a slightly startled look, taken off guard by the sudden change in her tone.

"You cannot harm me," the Queen went on softly, "any more than you can harm Jason. It is quite safe."

She stepped forwards and reached out a hand.

"Come on," she encouraged.

Medusa stepped slowly back into the light, hugging herself.

"Oh, you poor child," Pasiphae murmured softly as she looked at Medusa properly for the first time.

The sympathy in her tone was unexpected; it wasn't often that the Queen showed her softer side in public after all.

"How is this possible?" Medusa half gasped. "How is it possible that you can both look at me?"

"That is not important at this present time," Pasiphae replied. "What is important is that we should get you away from here as quickly as possible. I believe that Jason has explained the situation to you. Anything else must wait until we are safely away from here."

Medusa peered at her in the flickering torchlight. Realisation dawned on her face and she stared at Pasiphae, stunned.

"You're the Queen," she said to herself.

"Indeed," Pasiphae responded. "I had not believed myself to be so well disguised that you would fail to recognise me. I was hardly attempting concealment after all."

"Your Majesty," Medusa began. "Forgive me, but why would _you_ wish to help _me_?"

Pasiphae sighed.

"Your wellbeing is important to someone who I care about a great deal," she admitted, without so much as glancing in Jason's direction. "We must leave here now and then we will see what may be done to alleviate your situation. Every moment we linger brings us closer to disaster."

Jason looked at her sharply.

"What do you mean 'alleviate my situation'?" Medusa asked sharply.

"It may be possible to lift your curse," Pasiphae admitted. "There are… _ways_ that such a thing might be achieved… although there may be a price to pay for this."

"I will do anything," Medusa replied. "I would sooner die than live like this any longer."

"Anything? Now that _is_ an interesting proposition," Pasiphae almost purred.

"Pasiphae," Jason growled, slightly suspicious of her motivations.

"I make no promises for now," Pasiphae went on, ignoring Jason's interruption. "If your curse is to be removed I will require the help of another… and for now that must wait. Once the city is back in our hands I will have the time to consider your _problem_ and to cure you."

"What do you mean 'once the city is back in your hands?" Medusa asked. "What's going on?" she added, turning to Jason.

"That's something else I'll need to explain once we are on the road," Jason replied. "We do need to leave now though. I promised that I would not let any harm come to you and I'd rather not have to cut my way through an entire Atlantian detachment to keep that promise."

Medusa looked searchingly at him.

"What happened to you?" she asked softly. "You seem different somehow. You have changed. You're not the boy I knew before."

Jason half-smiled.

"I don't think either of us are the people we were before," he replied equally softly.

"You can discuss this later when we have more leisure," Pasiphae said sharply. "For now, we must escape."

"But where? Where can I ever go? I cannot risk any harm coming to anyone else," Medusa relied. "I would let them kill me first."

"Spare me the histrionics – I have no patience for them," Pasiphae snapped. " _I_ , at least, have some sort of plan even if _you_ have failed to think beyond finding this woman." She raised an eyebrow as she turned to her son.

Jason deliberately ignored her barb – although it still rankled a little that she thought he wouldn't have planned any further than finding Medusa and removing her from immediate danger (even if a small part of him _did_ admit to himself that she was right).

"So where were you thinking we could go?" he asked.

"There is a temple deep in the Calabrian Forest that is dedicated to Hecate," Pasiphae answered. "It is a fortress in its own right. None but the servants of the Goddess dare approach it and few people know of its existence. You will be safe enough there," she added, looking at Medusa. "Not even Anaxandros of Amphigeneia would dare defile it with his presence… he would not risk the wrath of the Goddess."

"I am not a servant of the Goddess," Medusa protested.

"No… but _I_ am. My Goddess will know that you are under my protection," Pasiphae retorted. "You will go to the temple and wait there. Once our present business is concluded, I will come and discuss your predicament with you… now are you _finally_ ready to depart or shall we leave you for the soldiers to deal with?"

Medusa gave a faint nod and stepped towards them. Before she could get very far, Jason moved purposefully towards her, unclasping his cloak as he went. He wrapped it around the startled woman's shoulders and did up the pin at the throat. Medusa stared at him for a moment, clutching the fabric to herself; almost seeming to melt into the warmth of the garment.

"Thank you," she whispered hoarsely.

"You look like you need it more than me," Jason shrugged as Medusa pulled the hood up to cover the snakes that wreathed her head in place of hair. "What you're wearing doesn't look exactly warm and I've got thick tunic and trousers on to keep me warm."

He ignored his mother's raised eyebrow and exasperated look.

"I have not been truly warm in months," Medusa murmured. "I had almost forgotten what it felt like."

"Well you won't be cold again," Jason replied. "Not if I can help it."

He picked up the torch from the floor and began to make his way to the entrance to the cave, moving ahead of the two women with his free hand on the hilt of his sword. As the passage got narrower, he could feel his heart rate speed up and his breathing begin to quicken as the darkness seemed to press in on him. He gnawed on his lower lip and his fingers tightened almost painfully on the sword hilt. God but he did hate small dark spaces and no matter how much he told himself that there was nothing to worry about – nothing to fear – anxiety still gripped him; cold unreasoning panic lurking. He forced down the rising panic and moved on, trying desperately hard to keep the two women with him from seeing how much this disturbed him.

It was really only a matter of moments that they were in the narrow passage yet to Jason it felt much longer. Finally though, he stepped out into the moonlight and drew in a deep shuddering breath, closing his eyes for a second as a vague feeling of dizziness hit him (caused, he suspected, by his own irregular breathing over the past few minutes). He quickly doused the torch in the sand knowing that the light from it would be seen from some distance away and half buried the remains until it looked like no more than a random piece of driftwood. He prised his (now aching) fingers from the hilt of his sword and turned back towards the two women. Pasiphae was watching him thoughtfully, one eyebrow quirked curiously, and Jason had the uncomfortable feeling that she could see right through him. He raised his chin and looked at her steadily; almost daring her to say something.

The corners of the Queen's mouth twisted into a faint knowing smile.

"We must move on," she murmured.

Jason nodded and began to pick his way over the rocks at the base of the cliff, pausing every so often to take the hand of either his mother or Medusa to help them over a rock. Suddenly he stopped and looked at Pasiphae with a grimace.

"The horses," he said cryptically.

"What about them?" the Queen asked.

"If they look at her, they'll be turned to stone… and we need them to get out of here before the soldiers arrive," Jason answered.

"It is fortunate then that I gave this matter some brief thought before we left Pagenia," Pasiphae retorted.

She turned to Medusa.

"As I understand it, it is looking into the face of a gorgon that triggers the curse is it not?" she enquired.

"Yes," Medusa answered. "Nothing living can look at me."

"The fact that we are both here with you proves that that statement is not wholly accurate," Pasiphae stated sharply. "Let us instead say that _most_ living things cannot look at you and survive." She pursed her lips. "Since it is your face which activates the curse then the remedy is simple," she went on. "The horses will not be affected if your face cannot be seen."

Medusa exchanged a startled look with Jason. It was a simple solution and yet was not one which had occurred to them before.

"Hold still," Pasiphae instructed.

She removed a heavy veil from somewhere inside her cloak and pinned it to the inside of the hood on the cloak that Medusa was wearing, covering her face completely.

"There," she said. "It is not a perfect solution but it should work for now. The material is thick enough that nothing should be able to see in through it, yet it _should_ still allow you to see… although your vision might be dimmed somewhat."

"Thank you," Medusa murmured, her voice slightly muffled behind the fabric.

Pasiphae nodded in acknowledgement, although she didn't reply verbally, and the three of them began the climb up the cliff path.

At the top, they led Medusa to where they had left the horses. As Jason untied his mount and boosted Medusa up into the saddle, he glanced back towards the woods to the east. Through the trees he could see lights bobbing; evidence of torches – still deep within the woods at the moment but growing a little closer with every second that passed. Pasiphae had been right – it looked very much as though the soldiers despatched from Pagenia were closing in on them.

He pulled himself up in front of Medusa and grabbed the reins of the horse.

"Hold on tight," he said to his friend. "Hercules would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you."

"We should go west – away from them," Pasiphae said, gesturing towards the bobbing torches.

"No," Jason disagreed. "If they don't find Medusa here, they will just keep searching on down the coast. We could be going west all night with them at our heels the whole way."

"So what do _you_ suggest?" Pasiphae demanded.

Jason looked at the slowly approaching lights thoughtfully, before turning to look at their surroundings through narrowed eyes.

"North," he said. "If we go inland we should avoid them completely. Ride for an hour or so and then turn east, back towards Pagenia. We should avoid them completely that way." He looked seriously at his mother. "Will that still mean we can get to your temple easily enough?" he asked.

Pasiphae nodded.

"There is a road which leads to the Calabrian Forest to the east of Pagenia," she replied. "It will be the quickest route… and, since there are no settlements along it and the Forest itself is largely uninhabited, there should be no Amphigeneians anywhere along it either."

Jason nodded tightly.

"Then let's go," he said, kicking his heels into the sides of his horse and taking off across the moonlit countryside.

* * *

As the first light of day touched the sky, the two horses crested a rise to the north-east of Pagenia. Before and below them lay a narrow track that disappeared off into the distance, heading inland. To their right was another pathway that descended into the valley, heading back towards Pagenia. Pasiphae pulled up sharply on the reins of her horse, forcing it to stop. The sudden stop took Jason by surprise and his own horse continued on for a short distance before he brought it to a halt, turning it and walking it back to join his mother.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"This is where I leave you," Pasiphae replied.

"What?" Jason asked in confusion; his thoughts slightly sluggish through lack of sleep.

"If I do not return to the King, my absence will be noted," Pasiphae responded. "And since I believed that tonight's little endeavour was something that you wished to remain a secret, I had thought that that is something we should avoid. If I leave now, I should be able to get back before most of the household has truly risen for the day. If I am seen, then I can claim that I have paid an early morning visit to the temple… but if I were not to be back for breakfast then uncomfortable questions might be asked."

She looked thoughtfully at the path below.

"Turn north when you get to the track," she advised. "The road you will be following leads straight into the Calabrian Forest."

"And how do we find the temple without you?" Jason asked crossly. "You know where it is, I do not. We could be wandering around for days before we find it."

A brief smile touched the Queen's lips.

"I hardly think it will be that difficult," she replied. "In fact, I do not believe you will need me to guide you at all. You are touched by the Gods, as I am. Although you are not a servant of Hecate, her power will draw you to the temple. Those who are touched by the Gods can sense one another's presence… as I believe you are aware."

She gave Jason a significant look, which he returned steadily. The fact that he could feel Pasiphae's presence was something he would need to talk to her about once Medusa was safe and he was back in Pagenia; for now, though, it could wait.

"So," Pasiphae went on, "just as you can sense the presence of another who is touched by the Gods, you will also be able to sense the power of the Goddess. Follow your senses and you will find the temple."

She reached into a bag attached to her saddle and grabbed a scrap of parchment and a stick of charcoal. She wrote a quick note, folded it and handed it to Jason.

"Approach the temple openly but with caution," she advised. "You will be met by a young woman. Like you, she is touched by the Gods and so she will be in no danger from your friend. Strangers do not generally approach the Temple of Hecate so she may be hostile to you at first. Tell her I have sent you and give her that note and she should take care of your friend until I can come."

"She will help us?"

Pasiphae half smiled.

"Yes," she replied. "She will help you for my sake."

"Who is she?" Jason asked.

His mother sighed.

"I do not have time to explain now, but you may be rest assured that once you have successfully completed your mission and returned to us I will tell you everything you wish to know."

She looked at the ever lightening sky and to the east where the Sun had not yet risen above the horizon.

"You must go," she went on, "and I must return to the King's side. You should reach the temple tonight… but you _must_ be back by nightfall tomorrow. I can hide your absence until then but I do not think I would be able to conceal it any longer than that."

Jason nodded.

"Thank you," he said simply. "For everything."

He slipped his necklace off over his head and handed it to Pasiphae – as he had when he had left to go to Athanos.

"I will keep it safe," Pasiphae promised softly.

She looked searchingly at the young man.

"May the Gods go with you," she added seriously. "Farewell."

"Farewell," Jason replied.

He hesitated for a moment, feeling a little guilty that his mother was going to have to travel the rest of the way to Pagenia alone. There was no real alternative to it though; Pasiphae _might_ be in danger travelling alone in these hills (however unlikely that seemed), but Medusa would _definitely_ be in danger if he left her now.

"Go safely," he added.

Pasiphae smiled at him and turned her horse to take the track to Pagenia, moving at a fast trot.

Jason watched her go for a minute before kicking his own horse on to pick its way down the hillside to the path below.

"Jason, what is going on?" Medusa asked from behind him.

She had been almost silent ever since they had started riding.

"It is a very long story," Jason replied. "I'll tell you as we ride."

"Why are you trusting the Queen of all people?" Medusa demanded. "Have you forgotten that she tried to kill you?"

"No," Jason answered. "I have _not_ forgotten that… but things have changed since you left Atlantis. Pasiphae… well… she wouldn't try to kill me now."

"You cannot know that," Medusa protested. "I know that you like to look for the good in people… but this is _Pasiphae_ we are talking about. She is ruthless and feared. You cannot know that she will not turn on you as soon as it suits her."

"Yes, _I can_ ," Jason insisted.

"Please listen to me," Medusa all but begged, her arms tightening around his waist. "I know you. I know that you have a good heart… but not everyone is like you Jason; not everyone means well. You have not heard the stories that are told among the Palace servants."

"No I haven't," Jason admitted. "But I've heard plenty of stories that are told in the city and seen enough for myself." He looked at the path ahead, not turning to look at the woman sitting behind him. "I know that Pasiphae is not known for her kindness… or for helping people without any benefit to herself… and I know that at some point she might let me down… but I also know that she will not even attempt to physically harm me – not now."

"How can you be so certain?" Medusa asked.

She knew how stubborn Jason could be of course, but to her mind obstinately insisting that the Queen would not harm him despite the earlier evidence of her trying to kill him was going too far.

"Because she's my mother." Jason's softly spoken response took her off guard.

"What?" Medusa's reply was one of horrified incredulity.

"She's my mother," Jason replied somewhat grimly. "Like I said, a lot has happened since you left Atlantis; some of it bad and some of it good. I'll explain as much as I can while we travel."


End file.
